| Welcome to my funeral, the first step has been done
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| In the hearse I lie down and shelter among four candelabra
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| In front of me the rainbow is still the last farewell to this life
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| An hail to death I’m bewildered about my condition
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| Look at my body, look at my coffin
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| What happened to my body, what has been of my soul
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| Double shade of soul drama
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| There’s silence among those present an
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| I’m gaining round in burial procession
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| So I’m not wrong… they’re crosses in graveyard
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| Who cares if they know or not
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| Looks like the death built this place
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| As to say «We are with you»
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| I’ll come back telling you the story of the cross
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| All those crosses, talk about themselves
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| Sometimes they sing, sometimes they cry
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| Understand the symbol of the cross
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| What’s the secret concealed
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| There are many things in the place called death
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| I don’t know if anything but this…
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| I rest in solitude with a sense of fear, in an inner silent void
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| Dead carry my cross and my flame, stare confused united
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| To the procession of shadows going toward the veil, mortal decay
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| Is this my new state, or it’s the coming one
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| The real things of the funeral are graveyard crosses
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| The ones concerning life, or the ones concerning death
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| Again the veil in front of me
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| Like when I’m wrapped in you mortuary drape
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| You have revealed and shown an unknown doom
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| It’s a return to death’s dawn, death’s revenge
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| Necrobell toll, ancestral force
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| Resting with a doubt
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| Silently deep darkness
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| Misantropic feeling |