Watch me turn the stones.
That evil comes out.
Why would I set it free?
It always comes back to me.

That evil is the only thing that always comes back to me.

Sun, sky, stones.
Black river water
washes over me.
It always touches me.

River water is the only thing that ever touches me.

And if you weary of the pain,
the pain will weary of you too.
And if you weary of the days,
the days will weary of you too.
But if you weary of me,
I will weary of you too.

I've seen the face of God,
and he hates me with disinterest.
Just like all the rest.

That evil face of God hates me like the rest.