| Everything is rags and there’s nobody to blame but me And it would be so easy if there was noone to hurt but me But now everything that i do coming out of me Will just tear through you | 
| In and out of you | 
| Up and down your life like a curse | 
| (so that when the sun bursts, | 
| When the rain falls, when the wind blows, | 
| I rip through your heart. | 
| on a horse called nightmare, | 
| Bucking and spitting, i ride to your house | 
| In the home of bluebeard, blood flows as red as any flag | 
| Death cries «victory is mine!» | 
| Laughter echoes, | 
| And death just claps his hands | 
| And then time stands still, castles fall, | 
| Lightning strikes the tower, announcing chaos | 
| Sunday’s child scales the walls | 
| Of a paradise then dives into darkness. | 
| A fool playing god | 
| With one foot in eden, one foot in hell | 
| And blindness in his brain | 
| And fever in his eyes | 
| Lies on his tongue | 
| Still saying «this is just a dream» | 
| Cast by the only son of rags | 
| Who would wrap you up in all the finest tatters | 
| But he wanted nothing more, my loved one, | 
| Than to wrap you up in joy | 
| But it never be with me -- you and i are like two worlds | 
| Not meant to collide | 
| Death to each other | 
| In the unravelling of time | 
| So how do you… how do you like it? | 
| What kind of dream would you call it — | 
| To have one foot in eden, | 
| One foot in hell | 
| To be always numb, | 
| Plagued by demons | 
| Summoned by angels at the same time, | 
| Endlessly) | 
| But i will burn me Right out of this place. | 
| I will lay you down to sleep | 
| So when you wake | 
| I’ll be gone | 
| And you | 
| Will remember | 
| Nothing | 
| You | 
| Will remember… |