The mirror… is the theatre… where the autopsy… begins…
Please, be so kind to leave this place
None of your kind is wanted here
A dreadful tremor shakes these walls
Your presence vibrates violently
Over many years we've built the utmost fragile atmosphere
We can't allow the uninvited visitor to interfere
The balance here's most delicate, and our salvation, if you wish
Yes, our existence as a whole is depending on this sacred place
A silence, powerful and true, a minimum of what we seek,
Pervading everything and all
It can be heard, can be perceived
This silence, you must understand, a quiet state of rest and calm
Is like a temple in itself, keeps the secluded souls from harm
Its gentle light is almost dark, a peaceful semblance of the tomb
A certain chills predominant
As most things here have ceased to move
Our Lord is sleeping in his chambers, the centre of our sanctuary
He's not receiving anyone
He has not seen a soul in years
So long ago our Lord's retired from the affaires your worlds do show
We've never heard your name before
Our Lord's not well, you have to go
Please, be so kind to leave this place
None of your kind is wanted here
A dreadful tremor shakes these walls
Your presence vibrates violently
Please… leave!