Whether you think what I regret?
Whether you know what I grieve?
There are no those prays and spells...
It only a pain inside of deceaseds

No... I´m not alive... I´m as dream in your eyes
No... I´m not dead... I´m (only) bitterness of loss
No... I´m not alive... I´m only the grown old face
No... I´m not dead... In light of the candles obsequial

Blessing all your illnesses
I lay my hands on the fallen asleep face
Cold and calmness...
My palms burn... it´s a pain inside of deceaseds

[... The world of my reflections
In your eyes... in your tears
All comes to an end
Whether you think...?]...

We shall not dare to touch
To icons of eternity
To reflections of our faces
In beams of a funeral sunset
We shall not dare to touch
To icons of eternity
To reflections of our faces
In beams of a funeral sunset

No... I´m not alive... I´m as dream in your eyes
No... I´m not dead... I´m (only) bitterness of loss
No... I´m not alive... I´m only the grown old face
No... I´m not dead... In light of the candles obsequial