Echoes and calls,
echoes in the halls,
echoes and calls,
footsteps and banging on the walls,
echoes and calls,
no peace but a riot of sound disturbing all around,
echoes and calls,
bloodstained walls,
bloodstained walls and dirt and a dirty shirt,
shouting from the basement,
pipes echoing with noise,
the sound of water,
the sound of laughter and screams and sighs,
oh, what a chaos in the basement,
for who knows what goes on there,
but I am fearing that someone has died,
I am fearing that someone has died,
and I, I have no wish to go down there,
I have no wish to commit suicide, down there.
Echoes and calls,
echoes in the halls,
echoes and calls footsteps and banging on the walls,
and an awful smell,
a smell as if there is a rotting corpse,
a nightmare,
a nightmare where you do not want to dwell,
a nightmare,
a subterranean hell.
A vision of evil,
a vision of coffins filled with blood,
a vision of dismembered corpses,
but luckily, I suddenly awake and that,
that truly is enough.