The melancholism Of the sword ofΒ Β sadness The beginning of madness The ghosts of your past you carry on your back The guns were loaded But you felt empty The kanon was fired You swallowed the powder You coughed like a man who knew fate was near You took your loss and lost what was taken Let the sand be the cover of the coffin that gave you the house without windows But who needs a window when eyes are hollow , the voice is empty the tongue was sharpest and cut all the lines that you never did speak