Out of the salivary glands
Pestilent waters are streaming again
And the stream becomes a flood
That swamp and castrates the fields
Where you cultivate and reap
Your deliverance and affluence
No other path than that of death
See the tongues of the dark flicker
The weakening gleam of your eyes reflect
In the torrents of the storm
Stare onto the once black soil
The glare of your eyes infect
By the torrents, the torrents of the streams
No other path than that of death