| Moonlit darkness, weirdlings aroused
|
| We stray the night, in our masks we weave
|
| Fabrics of doom, windows to wisdom
|
| Thoughts of murder, adorned
|
| Interrupted fleshwork to masters joy
|
| I leave it shaking, trembling
|
| On the mouldy wooden floor
|
| I take a last glimpse
|
| As I run for the door
|
| In my dreams its bleeding veins
|
| Screaming, begging, in its strains
|
| Knowing the final cut is near
|
| It stutters, wallows, cries out in fear
|
| Interrupted fleshwork to masters joy
|
| I leave it shaking, trembling
|
| On the mouldy wooden floor
|
| I take a last glimpse
|
| As I run for the door
|
| When it watches, finally seeing
|
| It sees me smiling, it sees me fleeing
|
| When it watches, finally seeing
|
| It sees me smiling, fleeing
|
| As I run for the door
|
| Lights flash in the raining night
|
| I hide, I rejoice, murders might
|
| Perfect paths, unseen I leave
|
| The hunter never close
|
| In my dreams its bleeding veins
|
| Screaming, begging, in its strains
|
| Knowing the final cut is near
|
| It stutters, wallows, cries out in fear
|
| When it watches, finally seeing
|
| It sees me smiling, it sees me fleeing
|
| When it watches, finally seeing
|
| It sees me smiling, fleeing
|
| As I run for the door |