Young sister of the nightingales
How pleasantly you sleep
Your patients crave your healing
While you need what you keep

Exhibiting your appointments
I hear trouble when you speak
Do not trust your confidence
You live in cripple creek

Old lady of the charities
You never gave enough
My mother never criticised
All she did was hand out love

In your need to seek perfection
You threw your valuables away
Now you’re lost without direction
But at least you’re made of clay

Corpses of the infantry
What exactly did you fight for?
Now who gives the orders
In the social status war?

Where is your pride and freedom?
You still do as you are told
When someone hits your buttons
You explode but remain cold

Freemasons of the brotherhood
You have been in it from the start

Never mind how old your granny is
She can’t defrost your heart

Painters hid the knowledge
But the night has drawn it out
Don’t go crawling to your masters
Their candle has blown out

Sentient beings of the universe
Well I guess that’s you and me
Armageddon lingers over us
Do you believe in destiny?

Our psyche has reached boiling point
But there is no time for tea
The earth will pour the water
I hope it needs our company

Cheers!