Paroles de The Young Martyr

I remember Your heavenly face underwater Admiring its whiteness Under the moon rays And the life going out Of your magnificent wounds Wraps up of red your naked flesh On your pearly nails, the subdued light Gleam under water in a deep silence And your veins, in a complexe network Draw on your skin tree roots You who sleep for ever In your cold shroud Shall the disgrace fall on Your holy misfortune Which sentences for its crime Your suicided spirit And puts on its face An accusing appearance You, who sleep for ever In your cold shroud Shall the disgrace fall on Your holy misfortune Your dark hair, as an oil slick Stays on the surface, refusing to sink It tries to make believe of a last hope It dances on the waves, unlifed, unlifed