The ocean is green for any lonely soul
Who imagines the world according to the thought
Transmitted through eras by the wind that lies.

I am a blasted tree, red in soul, blue in mind,
And the bolt of heaven has entered my soul,
And the bolt of heaven has destroyed my mind.
My knowledge is so damned that a cloud will cry
When I look at the sky and yell the hardest things
With my rocking stomach and my deep-injured voice.
The genius is a doll for the three Ancestors
Whose role is to cut any string when it hurts,
But their choice is to keep the smile turning to tear.
Victor Faust is my name and I’m swearing to Thee
Because you made the most unfortunate human,
Because you gave the eye and the way to be blind.