Tekster:
Sopor Aeternus Es Reiten Die Toten So Schnell

: Kiss the corpse, the blessed sigh, walk in the garden of the night. Hold the carcass, sweetest lie, bury the body you chose to deny. Shed a tear, suspended

the wounds, enfeebled he was sinking to the floor. Gushing out of the wounds, enfeebled he was sinking to the floor. "Cold" , he thought, "so cold the

nourishment, provided with a sob! This mortal nectar, that warms from the inside, This very special sort of wine. So delicious, let it flow ... devour ... oh, so

: Exposed with hands as empty, as the opposite space, Crawlingly we move to where the final station lies. To whom is the debt that we are forced to pay

: Hidden behind merciful shadows, beyond the cruel daylight, living to hunt and kill, we are the... damned children of the night. Dragging our immune

gathered in a chalice, all golden, Held by the dirty hands of a black-bearded man, His face sheer spitefulness. He knows well where he's been; So, don

: Would your bare your neck ... to the walking dead ... Secretly, at least, within the safety of your head? Tell me, isn't it nice - every once in a

corpses that feed on our necks. I caught a glimpse of myself on the other sphere and for a fleeting moment I forgot the tears. Dreams are precious ... and - OH - so