The killer lives inside me: yes, i can feel him move.
Sometimes he's lightly sleeping
In the quiet of his room,
But then his eyes will rise and stare through mine;
He'll speak my words and slice my mind inside.
Yes the killer lives.
Angels live inside me: i can feel them smile...
Their presence strokes
And soothes the tempest in my mind
And their love can heal the wounds
That i have wrought.
They watch me as i go to fall
- well, i know i shall be caught,
While the angels live.

How can i be free?
How can i get help?
Am i really me?
Am i someone else?

But stalking in my cloisters hang the acolytes
Of gloom
And death's head throws his cloak into
The corner of my room
And i am doomed...
But laughing in my courtyard play the pranksters
Of my youth
And solemn, waiting old man
In the gables of the roof:
He tells me truth...

And i too, live inside me and very often
Don't know who i am:
I know i'm not a hero, well,
I hope that i'm not damned.
I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
All are these:
Dictators, saviours, refugees in war and peace
As long as man lives...

I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
All are these:
Dictators, saviours, refugees...