I will die tonite for the second time I must die tonite I could taste the wine, but it's too late I'll burn with pride I'll die tonight upon the storm
And I will cry over heavens No wound shall ever satisfy my senses
No wound ! Never !
And I will cry over heavens No wound shall ever satisfy my senses And in my journey within the night I have made love with the divine
In rememberance of an existence Which has much been filled with void and nothingness I'll burn with pride I'll die tonite I'll die tonite upon the storm