Die Brandstifter - Rome

You sent for me to punish me

But I’m not yours to save

I never asked for the answer you gave

Are you trying to find

Something pure, something fragile?

Your hopes are stiff with filth

I refuse all gifts

For yours are scented with envy

Go take refuge in the fields

Go nurse your longing in darkness

Are you hoping to find

Something cruel, something sacred

Your hopes are stiff with filth

Your hopes are stiff with filth

You admire the lions — You despise all sheep

But following lions — Makes nothing but sheep

You are all bending in the wind