Free cry, free king!
In and out, not loud.
The paint sinks in the sand;
Blue, red and white,
And green and whi-te.

They scrape the steel,
The sounds, yes they do.

I see the paint flowing,
I feel the sickness growing
Out! And in
-Sinking in

               The landlors are calling me,
               And the bright blue obscures my vision
               Is the sand falling?








And as the crimson wine soaks in,
And the worms finish their feast,
I slowly go insane.