| When I was a child, I used to live across the street
|
| From here, on those sleepless nights a faint bell and a
|
| Harsh cough filled the air
|
| Nothing will remain
|
| He will ease you from your pain
|
| If you shall reign this world
|
| Embrace your nightmare
|
| They said he once rose from the earth
|
| To help people die, to resurrect and join his
|
| Army of walking undead
|
| He will case you from your pain
|
| If you shall get your revenge in the end
|
| He was a lunatic from my worst nightmares
|
| They said he used to lure sleepless and unaware children
|
| And in his dark cellar he would end their lives
|
| Consume their brains, and thus reconquer the ability of being creative again
|
| And to live happily as only a child can, in it’s pathetic fantasy world
|
| On Sunday nights I often walk pass that old house, where I used to live as a
|
| child
|
| Last night, when I passed the house, I heard a faint sound of a bell in the wind
|
| I was wondering if others also could hear it, that bell, and my harsh,
|
| nagging cough that I can’t get rid of |