Kwaad bloed from De doden hebben het goed

The glass is broken. The knives are out Where voices are trembling, there's nowhere/ no will to hide Never undone. Never unsaid In time confined but forever condemned As one, we reach out As one, we abide On the first day coming The blood will be denied The last-born child Martyr of spite On the first day coming He will be denied From Brother to ghost From Brethren to past To nothing To never No more