I am tied with a chain to her-with a chain of an unknown length.
We share one bed on different sides of the wall.
And everything is perfectly clear, but why should the heaven care?
And everyone will die the death he will fancy himself.
She's got her own demons and the nightingales of her own behind.
And each of them was the reason for which she is not with me.
But under the slow gaze of the icons, in the heart wet with rain
I was told that I am not to blame, and it means that I'm not to judge.
So make an angel to me-and I will show you the earth.
Show me happy people, and I will show you death.
Reveal the miracle to me of escape from this jail.
And I will say that what we have
Might be enough for more than what we are.
I'm tied with a chain to her-with a chain of an unknown length.
I'm tired with a church to her-with a church of love and war.
And the sky is getting closer-so close that it hurts the eyes.
And everyone will die by the death he will fancy himself.