Текст песни
The pen touched the crumbling paper
Leaving a pattern on the crumpled sheet
The hand that wrote
Shook a little
Shook a little
Drawing a pattern
But the letters clung to the uneven lines
Uneven lines on the crumpled sheet
On the crumpled sheet a pattern was drawn
As if writing a sentence to himself
An old gray-haired wrinkled executioner
That the witch was executed at dawn
A little trembled
Pattern drawing
But the letters clung to uneven lines
Uneven lines on the crumpled sheet
Her words through the breath of the fire
Will never forget
Not the witch was killed here you at all the executioner
And his own old age!
A little trembled
Pattern drawing
But the letters clung together in uneven lines
Uneven lines on a crumpled sheet
And the one i burned at the stake
Came to me in a dream
Taking my entire youth with her
Leaving only a few pathetic days
She trembled slightly
Drawing a pattern
But the letters clung together in uneven lines
Uneven lines on a crumpled sheet
