The wheels are in motion
The cart ploughs the soil like a giant lead monument
Dragging the flesh across the soil
With a rag round one's neck
The wheels are in motion
The cart ploughs the soil, leading to the iron polygon
When all is done...
The door closes behind me
And I am flung out into the desert
Then, with a darting flow of pain
I hurl until my guts are as dry as bones
I stare into that scene of nothingness
The fullness of anger paralyses me
Then pain is felt all over with a tightening grip
Voices repeat themselves like a never-ending punishment
I will have my revenge...
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