When the warm wind blows
Through the corridors and tiled walls.
There you are,
The mad guardian of your empty room.
Your memories were tortured
By the scent of ocean through the halls -
And where was I,
The one that you loved best?

Now show me how
To hold the knife that cuts the page,
To [bad word] the weakness,
And the guilt I use for faking strength.
Now I remember,
I crawled naked across the broken stage.
And there was I,
The child that brought us shame.

So walk across
The blood red ocean,
Stand above
The broken glass and concrete towers.
An here I sleep,
Some guardian of my empty room.
Now I've [bad word] the child
That neither of us knew.

(Jetzt kannst du schlafen, jetzt kannst du [bad word] träumen.)

Thank god you never knew,
The things that I've done.
Thank god you never saw,
The person I've [bad word]