Souls Of Seven, ljóð frá 3. janúar 1986.

Feel the wind blow, fallen over,

frantic needs and terror through my eyes.

Frozen do I stare so still,

stunned all through the furthest will.

How come, endless sorrow, she was nice,

soon no more we're easy, live in clover.

 

Save the planet, soon I make it,

saviour, there's the faulty human kind.

Stick to truths in wicked winds,

wait to get them beat, the sins.

Sorrow for the siblings, what I find,

sad and blind when they must deny, take it.

 

In my song this all is better.

antic moods of fallen church in vain.

Can't be gone, the queen of love,

cunning wolves are high above.

In my soul the darkness put this pain.

prehistoric, too much, will regret her.

 

Save me from the mistakes maiden,

merry feasts are clinging to her breast.

Darkness rests with rigid arms,

rolls of fat without the harms.

Will I ever find the waiting, best?

warfare in the country being laden.

 

Future, repeat souls of seven,

sewer humble give him strength and will!

Kiss in life the longest pride,

lust and faults shall never hide.

Saw him there, the power, fortress, fill!

Feel like they must also go to heaven.