Dusk, the paradise of all convicts
On the flight, there's no way back
Flash cut through the black darkness
Of the
sixteenth century
My body is dead
Only eyes are following your face
They are always with you
Everywhere is blood you
have me on conscience
To unbind a tongue of people
and give to the executioner
Where will this man come in the red hood
alone?
The executioner, our only master - to Satan?
Shackles are biding my body
I'm given even to the sack alone
An extol
face under my mask
I'm alive and you must pay a cruel tax
For my death