| The shadows are thick and Old
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| I’m searching the dark for my love
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| Behind the Theater of Puppet Shows
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| I find the stairs to the Cellar below
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| Hiding where the shadows rule
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| A door opens below
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| The Moon is high above
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| 300 pounds of flesh, that woman I know
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| Oh it’s the Puppet Master’s wife
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| She pulls a cart behind her
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| «Oh Emerencia», where are you going with that knife?
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| Time to kill, it’s time for her nightly thrill
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| «Oh Emerencia», where are you going with that knife?
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| Deep in the night through the narrowest streets
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| I follow her every step
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| She is searching for innocent victims
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| «Oh Emerencia»
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| In an alley a homeless is sleeping
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| Approaching without a sound… and then… oh no
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| «How strange it is. |
| to see. |
| a life that slips away
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| How strange it is. |
| in Darkness Blood is Black not Red»
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| The knife is still deep in his chest
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| Gotta keep the Blood in its nest
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| She wraps him in the sack she brought
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| She better leave before she gets caught
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| Through the streets dark and Old
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| Through the streets, no one must know
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| Only the Moon and I And none of us will ever tell
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| She pulls the body off the cart
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| Back at the Theater, down into the dark
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| «Oh Emerencia», I wonder why you left the door ajar
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| Deep in the night through the narrowest hallways
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| I follow her every step
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| There’s a light from a doorway ahead of us Where did she go, where did she go??? |
| Oh no What I see is a Horror Show… then the blow… |