do I miss illusion
or have lost the truth
sloth makes the pleasures dull
power is gone nowhere
nothing's lost without a trace
but how to return?
no bleeding rage
no shining joy
no will to create or destroy
but no other dreams are born
altar broken, bible torn
candles smolder to the coal
I'm a child of stream
no smoke, no steam
I have lost my role to play
and I can't play other role
great mother gives, great mother takes
instinctive powers try to reach some part of me
on thinnest wire
the part that mortal never sees
I see her eyes in forest lakes
I hear her voice in rustling trees
but there is other voice and sight in mystic choir
chorus
sleep, my child
I will give you the wings
it takes time to triumph over time
rest in peace
in this cradle of mist
child of stream, child of flood, child of tide
rest in peace
and enjoy your disease
child of stream, child of tide, child of flood
I will give you the wings
made of pages of book
written by hand of doom with your blood
---
sleep, my child
in my deadly embrace
blazing breath will be burning your face
sleep, my child
too much fragile and strong
we are both slightly out of place
howling wind
will be your lullaby
raven cry
and the crack of the doors
sleep, my child
wait for your paradise
I will bless you to be under curse
do I miss illusion
or have lost the truth
in the holographic mist
threads still tangle, roll and twist
it is time to pay the tax
no right to complain
candles fade without wax
Only coal to remain
there is no omen
where to look for a sign?
and again is snowing
in sand castles of time
disappearing in black hole
on the any side
I’m the child of tide
as a slave to Fortune wheel
always lose and always steal
I can touch just slimy shadows that I stole
chorus
day by day
time will heal and destroy
years and centuries are passing by
sleep, my child
I will be your defense
and in my bloody hands
you will die
sleep, my child
I am the god of storm
lord and bringer of unholy night
sleep, my child
I'll again keep you warm
and I promise I will treat you right
avoiding extremism but seeking for a cult
the fear of addiction makes the pleasure blunt
the fear to be deceived does not let me surrender
but that is meaningless to stay behind the fender
the great mother and devil unite in the matter
random changes of substance make feel worse or better
but the power of Baal is taking the force
for a second it opens mysterious doors
or maybe hidden power from within
joining the might of time unseen
the electricity inside and outside
under the rays of moon the high and low tide
day by day
time will heal and destroy
years and centuries are passing by
sleep, my child
be my challenge and toy
and in my bloody hands
you will die
sleep, my child
in the outer space
For develop you have to decline
fall from grace
I’m the one of your graves
and you are cozy cradle of mine
sleep, my child
in the cradle of sleet
Strikes of thunder are your daily bread.
rest in peace
ice is under your feet
and the darkness is over your head