Oh, I take leave of my senses gently
In front of your image smiling witchily.
Shine bright, shine bright till I recall
Who am I, who are you?
My brain is itchy...

Am I well? Yes, I am.
Am I well?! I am not.
Deadly freezing in your absence,
Yet it is glowing,
Yet it is hot

I am 'a couple of years alive',
You are 'an eternity old'.
You fervidly turn around,
However, the Sun is cold.

Urging to dissolve myself:
The deepest bliss of sadness...
The symptoms are emerging
Of my future madness.

My soul has an itch to hell
And my dreams will come true.
Even maybe it's not me,
But just my devil loves you