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Redemptive tunes turned out as spears |
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Cathartic words became a sword |
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Stones to smash the brother's head |
|
I said: |
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"Your music is too weak |
|
to save a soul perished by cold" |
|
You said: |
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"Your words are to putrid to wake a sleeping child" |
|
Stones, self-righteous stones |
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God loves you so much more than me |
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We lost ourselves in grudge |
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I took the stone and smashed your head |
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You took the stone and smashed my head |
|
The one escaped in music mute |
|
The other in empty words |
|
Stones to smash the brother's head |
|
Brudermord |
