My vision of this world Held so dearly in my mind Shattered like this young man's skull Along the banks of the Rhine. May I curse god and die? For death would be a relief But would it vindicate or shame me In my rampant unbelief? May I curse god and survive, Or would lightning strike me to the ground? I would gladly feel its burn on my face If then I could see my Jehovah come down Faire le descente No witch has ever died No demon ever slept too deep All can be brought back To herd unfortunate sheep No witch has ever died No nightmare ever truly sleeps There is no such thing as death Except for the mortal sheep The mud is in my wounds, My blood is in the ground From dust I was born Oh how poetically we are bound May I curse god and die? For death would be a relief But would it vindicate or shame me In my rampant unbelief? May I curse god and survive, Or would lightning strike me to the ground? I would gladly feel its burn on my face If then I could see my Jehovah come down