[music] the threads
are woven momentarily into the finest
lace and the hand of the Almighty rules
the drawing of fate, ah, how I immediately want the
beautiful eternal necessary only for
the month, the heart in the snare of worldly divination, we
would fly into the sky to the clouds of
God's beauty, we would
touch the most holy peak in the mountains of dreams,
only we fall and we wander in circles
at the foot of the wild, which quickly reached
the top of the sleigh,
and when,
weakened by mad wanderings in the
pitch-black desert of vice, the
dust ascended to the heavens,
they will hear us and send us forgiveness for sin and
illuminating the path to the saints of voices,
they will penetrate us with God's brightest the sound and
light in our hearts
of what is hidden from view and then with a
deafening explosion the silence of lace will be heard, the
world not sacred to love will envelop us
[music]