| 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 |