Cursed Cats Mk.I

Marble, white ash wood, iron fittings, hard-to-handle knobs
Building the palace is pointless if you don't come across its main entrance door 

I've feasted on the table of the gods, and I've shared their meals and icor;I gazed, and they asked how did I dare to smile so nasty at their golden-glaring faces,so I answered: he who knows his time is over finds much joy by gathering with the ever-lasting ones as they see men come and go due to aging, no one of them has ever dared to smile back at thee, but the moment I became self-aware of my insignificance I just couldn't help to laugh
I've been told I need a golden coin to bribe the dark and lanky boatman, for all it takes to be cast on better waters is a small piece of gold, I'd rather spin forever in the whirlpool of the poor men who couldn't pay for the trip

November 1942: "Sophie, my darling, Oberstführer Preßleir's plan includes a very hazardous quest that I might not survive to. My father's manor and everything within his walls is now all yours. I beg you take my ashes down to Ausburg if I don't make it."

May 1943: "Darling, my rose, remember that promise I made to you when we were twenty-three years old? The Maybach's keys are hidden on top of that old wall clock, yeah, the one with the golden needles just left from the wine collection from 1872 we saved for our third anniversary. Our men's morale is high, but the enemy doesn't fail on his constant attempt to storm us all."

January 1944: "I was just shot the other night, but managed to rescue four of my fellows' lives. The saber of my great-uncle rests on top of that old Vermund's paint. It would be wise for you to take it with you to the officer Oppland."

May 1944: "Our fight is finally over, we have lost it all, and even though I've been wounded in the body and mind alike, it all would be far easier to assimilate if it wasn't because I've been told they saw our former postman driving my Maybach down to my father's manor in Bavaria with you drunk and waving my great-uncle's saber celebrating the end of the war" 

Vincent's mother was not willing to send his trouble-making son to the judo class, for she considered them to be too violent, so as the boy would end up being more dangerous than he already was, but the father convinced her, saying: "Well, darling, it's either judo classes or homemade drumming jams" Yeah, that anger had to go one or another way
Never before a man on an all-white gi has hammered a seven-piece set like that

Father Brabeck, I beg you pardon my thirst, for I've got this thing for hydration you call a vice, 's not my right to express condemn and ignite the embers of your anger if I dare to gently ask for more sugar in return to calm down my need? 

Remember that time when we waked up naked and afraid, you felt shame, oh Baby, you hid the beauty of your curvy body with scarlet rags, for you felt the offense of the skin being witnessed by the furious eyes of the high one, there came the she-bear, lady of the forest, and so I knew it was a place called Paradise

I've had a lusty desire for justice, I've wanted to die cast a statue of the healer of the masses on solid bronze, might as well have just skipped the moment when they came at night and cut off one large piece to forge a cannon out of his left leg 

Asking for instant love may be too much for a man this ugly, I just wanted someone to at least understand me

There are no more people who consider me to be a genius than those who think I'm stupid, but trying to convince both groups and set a balance seems to be a quite hard task

How many doors are left on the way I've walked on since the beginning of all times that could I knock to so as to find some love inside?

I've got to reach the uttermost glorious moments ever recorded when the toad mocked the flight of the hawk, for the latter couldn't swim and his shadow didn't go beyond the top of the swamp where the first had its lair

I'll drink the tears on your glass
I'll read what no one else ever will, the book of your miseries,
I'll share your pain and soften the venom in your cocktail
I'll hold your hands and hug you from behind before the bullet leaves the barrel, aiming for your head
I'll die sixty-eight times in a row so as to meet you at the record mark