One is supposed to be submerged into belief
Somehow by a miracle
And from then on to swim in it
As in the least ambiguous of elements

And even just a glance towards land
The thought that one perhaps might be there, ah
Oh, for something else as well as swimming

Even the slightest impulse
Of our amphibious nature is sin
What they want is an eternal song over the waves
In which reason has drowned