Sit on the stone,
someone laugh with her thunder tones,
i shame to my ancient weakness,
to be a part of the devil redness

mostly people know her name
the one who stay in her own flame
dressed up like a queen of Baroque star
drink people’s expensive wine in private bar

All the Red is mine,
something Red inside in your head,
the Red you eat, you burned, you killed,
you burried, you cried,
even the Red you tried to live in

Noting what she write,
she warn our oldest rights
you cannot be really freed
unless you type her Holy to read.