Can't do anything without pain.

(Always had too much heart...)



Too much cold. Sad memories.



Have my own dawn machine.

(Free from all the dirty little swines...)


Full of warmth. Hope for gladness.




Now I stand here... with the games of suffering...

and touch everything Life denies me....




We start just after the scorn of the night

and live well on magical loans and fight,

inner jesting and mockery of all fools!


Come with!