Feel how it taste, the scraps of the thorns developes the blood that 

is flowing without a prevent, down, all the way down until it´s 

reaching the groundFeel the taste of the pain who is laughing you 

in the face exactly like you have done, in a now looking far away 

timeFeel how it draws you to the ground how it passage your 

whole situation, the thought feel unreal but yet close, what drives 

you – holding you up? 



What comes to you...the situation is inevitable, you falling in 

the so often safe surrounding, you are thrown around in the 

darkness where no one seems to care-Who am i? The question is 

an echoe that going round, you don´t know – is there a me? The 

nightmare becomes reality everything is dark – you take a shape of 

a ghost you don´t know, hiding behind the mask that is choking 

you, the blood starts to flow the thorns are reminding, you stapple 

around and fall in the shadows where you are alone and empty. 



Can no one see? Can no one see? – I fall down in the deep tunnel 

there nothing is like me. Can no one see? Can no one see? – Feel 

how it draws you to the ground how it passage your week 

self esteemCan no one see – i´m obscurity, Can no one see – the 

retribution thru me? 



The thought is unreal but yet close, my only way – drink the wine, 

face the blood, qouncer myself.Lost in my thought, Lost in my 

body, feeling the thorns, reminding the pain.I feel how it draws 

me to the ground, how it passage my whole situation, the thought 

feel unreal but yet close, what drives me holding me up? 



Once more the shadows of night have darkened my existence, but 

somewhere in my in blackened unpleased mind I have a small 

beginning of a remembrance, like an unreadable note from a long 

time ago that still is valid. 



When the shape is forming I know there will be something more -

I know..At the mirror of my soul – many times I'm convinced – all 

concepts have lost their meaning, when the situation is inevitable 

and I'm falling down in the so often safe surrounding. 



When the question is an echo that going round and I don't know 

is there a me?I have my remembrance reminding me that I know; 

yes I know there will be something more a new morning -

the everlasting the fullfilled