Like Everyman, I am short in temper.
When I snap I blow like an explosion.
To detonate, a blow which can sunder,
all the mighty world, is (a) soul’s corrosion.
No Dirae, Fury, can match my,
the violence, decadence, it is so high,
no inner wrath, raging wreath can subsided
be; I am one, one of them, the Fury.
Like Mortalman, I am a great sinner.
With blinding rage, the master puppeteer,
the conscious clear becomes so thinner.
All I see with my eyes disappear.
Eumenides, so like me, revengeful,
the violence, decadence, it is so high.
Erinyes, with the wings, so forceful.
Me? I am one, one of them, the Fury.
I fell again in pitch black.
Fully aware that I certainly lack,
a will, a strength, a fire.
All I had I lost with ire.
No Dirae, Fury, can match my,
the violence, decadence, it is so high,
no inner wrath, raging wreath can subsided
be; I am one, one of them, the Fury.
Eumenides, so like me, revengeful,
the violence, decadence, it is so high.
Erinyes, with the wings, the jury.
I, I am one, one of them, the Fury.
Written by Dušan Kovljen
for the music band Serpensortia
