A black ship in the dark
Rocking through sleepless waves of monotony
Like a sick child in the cradle of times
Nighttime is endless
And daytime a nightmare

Riddles and signs fall from the skies
And turn into words
Like wind in the sails
The coffin gathers way to divide the sea
The coffin gathers way to divide the sea

We slide into the void of staler dreams
Of sadness and of hatred
Where meaninglessness crams up all spaces
The sails are wings now
But the bird cannot sing

The bird is drunken and barking its song
And from time to time
And from time to time
An elegy
Challenging the existence of God
Without paying the price of beauty
Without paying the price of beauty
And Isodororor is dead, dead, dead!

The poet is a judge now
And a thousand fake lights
Paint grinning masks
Spoiling the skies with a thousand bad omens
In feverish verses in three different languages
To illuminate the world
And Isidororor is dead, dead, dead!

The bird is screaming into the void
And from time to time
And from time to time
A single wrong note escapes
And Isidororor is dead!

A magic word in three different languages