My favourite wound

My favourite wound today's told me

That soon she is gonna be healed

Our temples and churches are broken

From doors to the sacred seals

Ivories with secret whispers

As sweet as the morning sweets

Which singing: " Go on man, now kiss her"

Will never appear as our sits

There's two thrones and one of them empty

Who'll be there: new girl or despair?

Maybe i need to switch all accents

And change throne to old rocking chair?

Or maybe i need to let sit here

Allmighty and glorious God?

I'd like to, but that throne is so clear

And his hands are soaking with blood

I prayed and i talked to her shadows

But it felt like tough office tie

Was left with so much unheard "Who knows?"

As her hair was waving "Goodbye"

My favourite wound today's told me

That soon she will not be so sore

And right after that (which is funny)

She's started to hurt even more.