It's that place where the truth
Is an empty hug, a disguise
Imagine being an old hostage
A forgotten canvas on the wall
And no, you don't want to
Burn, burn, let it burn well
The tale of the slave and his king
Burn, burn, let it burn again
Whoever loses memory for pleasure
You won't fall, I'm a daughter too
There's no race in the chest nor in the skin
Silenced for being born, story of Babel
I'm the shame of your shot at her carnation
It must be that no, you don't want to
Burn, burn, let it burn well
The tale of the slave and his king
Burn, burn, let it burn again
Whoever loses memory for pleasure
And there's no home if not, if there's no calm
And if it doesn't burn, burn
The tale of the slave and his king
Whoever loses memory for pleasure
A forgotten canvas on the wall