Testo Saint Nothing

Lift,
Lift your head
Myth,
So pristine
And white with age
Walk with me
Speak to me
Saint,
I don't know your name
But your voice so strong
Speaks through the glass
Speaks through the ground
An empty phrase
A hollow sound

Calm,
Quite severe
Leave the throng
A mind so clear
You feel no pain
An end so near
You taste the blood
How long?
How long?
How long?
How long?