I have wasted ten years in a (flind **) blind-fold Ten-fold more than I've invested now in sight I have traveled beveled mirrors in a fly crawl Losing the reflection of a fight But like a compass seeking north There lives in me a still sure spirit part Clouds of doubt are cut asunder By the lightning and the thunder Shining from the compass of my heart I have flown the frantic flight of the bat-wing And only known the dark because of that I have seized death's door-handle Like a fish out of the water Waiting, waiting for the mercy of the cat But like a compass seeking north There lives in me a still sure spirit part Clouds of doubt are cut asunder By the lightning and the thunder Shining from the compass of my heart