Enter in a tomb of gore
Suddenly blinded by a kaleidoscope of colour
Confusion sets in like a cyanide pill; quickly and dangerously
You howl, baby, like a wolf who lost its pack

Endure the painful struggle
The oscillating rhythm of good and bad
Disappointment and fear around every corner
Like a pick pocketer waiting for the opportune moment to rob you of all happiness
You complain, child, profusely like a youth deprived of entertainment

Exit in a wooden prism
The swaying motion nauseating your corpse as they carry you
Down, down, down
Darkness all around