Dusk, the paradise of all convicts
On the flight, there's no way back

Flash cut through the black darkness
Of the sixteenth century

My body is dead
Only eyes are following your face
They are always with you

Everywhere is blood you have me on conscience
To unbind a tongue of people
and give to the executioner
Where will this man come in the red hood alone?
The executioner, our only master - to satan?

Shackles are biding my body
Im given even to the sack alone
An extoly face under my mask
Im alive and you must pay a cruel tax
For my death