When the ink is dry
or at your death-bed
you can damn your poison words

It seems you have run out of regard
for moralistic ideals
Just turn your head
when confronted with the truth
and hope that your new life
is all that you wished for

Adjusted the definition of loss

Is it just coincidence that it fits so well here?
Restitution comes passing through
and it won't even walk through the first door

Face north and greet the cold that times your pulse
North, directionally outright, straightforward
Face north and greet the cold that times your pulse
North, truest of all points
Points, that you have failed to make