Alas, Autumn... do not fear, my dearest We are both misunderstood Thou art the one who welcomes me As I sweep through thy portals I shall now relieve thee
From thy colorful melancholy and sorrowful fatigue From every word of betrayal hangs upon an icycle of misery a collection of tears of my past, now frozen I mourn Man's false dreams And the ones who think me a fool... shall lay before me, bleeding red crystals upon my frigid smile... into my wet, white grave So I can touch their suffering yet feel no remorse They pray to Summer... but they sacrifice unto me...