Die Brandstifter

You sent for me to punish me
But I’m not yours to save
I never asked for the answer you gave
Are you trying to find
Something pure, something fragile?
Your hopes are stiff with filth
I refuse all gifts
For yours are scented with envy
Go take refuge in the fields
Go nurse your longing in darkness
Are you hoping to find
Something cruel, something sacred
Your hopes are stiff with filth
Your hopes are stiff with filth
You admire the lions — You despise all sheep
But following lions — Makes nothing but sheep
You are all bending in the wind