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