I am absent now, I no longer inhabit this temporal cage,
I have no need for traitorous Love and no use for the finer things,
My short and sour visit to this decaying empire of rage,
Has been far too painful to beg for the peace that holy sleep brings.
Now there is no need for vicious air or dangerous water,
My fear and my hatred of the inequity of life sustains me.
In desperation I now suck at the bosom of cold terror,
My ears cannot hear sweat music. Even my eyes struggle to see.
Around me are those who would feed on my flesh. Dear God let the icy hail fall,
And old eternal Heaven shut forever its golden and forbidden door,
Now let poor old Satan in a cheer, trumpet a victorious call,
For I am done and washed up on Hell’s shore.