Between my two calloused hands
A copia of rusted horns
That sound together
Yet tuned apart
And I with them a scream a scream
Rent from my two unshorn lips
Beast-sounds defeated marking the
Violence of an age
Milestone cruelty that all
Permit and all perceive
Tod und Verklärung now just empty
Sounds beauty of thirty minutes
Dragged through thirty misery-years
One for the dead
One for the triumphant
Makes sense to me
Sense to me
What is our century
How can this be
Can this be
My hair is matted my voice is gone
My note from the underground
No one is listening