The Game - Soul Demise

When tiredness tries to be a part of you

Reigns you and your senses

It silently whispers the song of death

Be warned of the shown picture

It, the friend of darkness

The gambling pair of gloom

They already carried out some underhanded plans

It is over, the master finished the game

The only thing you can hear is the song of death

As a child you have seen the play of puppets

How they fidget on the strings of their players

Lent some kind of life to nothingness

They decided if they are tired or awake

The difference to the past

I give you a hint

That tiredness plays now the game

It’s the creator of your trip

Now you are the puppet

Strings no longer taut

The lid of your eyes will show you the darkness