Time devours it's victims like a spider eats the fly/
drinking his/her blood like the most satisfying wine. 
Creating thunders into the most savagest of minds
and making one wonder, making one dream.

I count the years when I was misleaded, in pain. 
The blood that pours today is much older than yesterday. 
Still I do wonder whether you'd be missing my smile. 
While the clock keeps on ticking/
the time is not forgiving. 

And all of my fantasies are still residing
in my womb, in my tomb. 

Within my heart. 

There's still the beat. 

Can you hear the pounding?