You think I look through Satan's eyes
Or are they watching over me?
You never asked my biography
So I tell you the facts, that you can't see

It's true, my painting is depressive
The crying man, the dying child
The pregnant woman screaming
The prisoned devil with eyes open wide
A sculpture out of painted bones
You've seen the two ladies with a biten dick
Lyrics about the relieving death
That's reason enough to declare: I am sick?

Are you sick?
Hell and back the road
For hating you, for hating you

Should I be locked away?
If you knew kinds of atrocity
You'd know I just give vent to my anger
My only possibility to digest
Without it, I couldn't live any longer
Duplicate love until adoration
Imagine the loss within a few seconds
Profounded pain you can't resist
Just by thinking about what happened

Hell and back the road
For hating you, for hating you

Am I sick?
Should I be locked away
You are sick!