One hundred and ninety three heads bleed while a head is emerging horrors and phobias are silenced before your eyes the portrait of death Disguised as love and hateful peace portrait of death will not burn tonight as he looks at the sky tears of blood flow Ritually brutal plus an angelic face will be cut at dawn Portrait of death You see what I see by one hundred and ninety-three heads that rot in your castle built with the bones of the damned Mud and blood stain bare feet of those who tread the sacred land lost in the future and will be found in the past Symmetrically disengage heads Symmetrically They agonize and bleed In front of the lord of this world...I bleed! The word game is over... embers burn my flesh angels become demons Coming from human ashes The end of this world has arrived... remains of skin and bones on the floor the stench is carried by the wind Naked and barefoot, a new man walks between the heads who bleed trying to decapitate the only head emerging from the sea And in front of the lord of this world...I bleed!