Where little fingers entwine
A ritual of remorse
Never fall behind
The reaperman calls
An urge to rush
In haste, certain death
Stand still, catch your breath
And hush
In their feverish malady, a symphony
In the key of curious scares
Be evenfall a foe unseen?
In abandond houses, in truths, in dares
Trust not the men of seed
Or the mothers who fed you breast
Woe unto him who to lies takes heed
And tries the darkness behest
Find you he will, the man of scythes
Destroyer of worlds, the one to close all eyes
The shadows you crept past with fear in your minds
Taking refuge in treacherous lullabies
Can you hear the echoes in the night?
In færytales mingled the truth you may find
The dark things can be seen when one looks behind
All the voices, the dreamscapes and terrors sublime
