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