| One night at her bedside, she will lie awake
|
| With thoughts through her head and plans for her fate
|
| To reach through her madness would paint her face white
|
| And deliver her pain with punishing might
|
| It swallows her whole, as if some sort of beast
|
| With nothing to hide, her soul is its feast
|
| No margin for error, no second to waste
|
| The dream she is placed in reminds her of hate
|
| This body she’s trapped in can bear no escape
|
| Like horrors and demons, there’s a mask on her face
|
| While tragic and sadness await by her side
|
| The effortless sleep will be her ultimate ride
|
| The stage is now set, she is ready to go
|
| And only seconds remain until the start of her show
|
| The wait is so lonesome, so desperately dry
|
| That her eyes will go red and will soon start to cry
|
| This waiting impatience can drive her to madness
|
| The only thing keeping her is unbroken sadness
|
| So with one mournful cry, she cries out for him
|
| But nothing is heard and things become dim
|
| Her eyes are now closing, now ready for sleep
|
| Her prayers have been answered, she’ll no longer weep |