Come to the place where we bury strangers.
We hang them up to dry til' their rotten,
turned mad, and all sides of themselves forgotten;
then we drink their blood, despite the dangers.
Then, and only then do we sing them to sleep:
such disharmony blaring down their ears on repeat.
The will to give up soon starts to creep,
and we listen for the last breath and the last heart beat.

Come to the place where we bury strangers-
I know that your at least little tempted.
But many have failed when they have attempted
to hold on to their heads in these chambers.
We can and we will sing you sickly to sleep:
such disharmony blaring down your ears on repeat.
The will to give up soon starts to creep,
and we listen for your last breath and your last heart beat.

We were crazy before you could catch it.
We walk in green mazes with boxes of matches.
We bury bodies and we've buried a few hatchets.
We were crazy before you could catch it.

So come to the place where we like to go.
I think you'll find us to be easy in nature.  
We do not pass judgement on any creature,
nor do we kick someone when their down and low.
We just drink a little blood and bury a few strangers.

The ravens watch from their trees
Barren dead branches, naked of leaves
The Winter chill hangs in the air
A solo walker makes his way, this night
An eerie light is cast on the tombstones
As if the cold moon is reaching down

He will always come here, in darkness
For the night sounds play the music
As amongst the grave, he dances alone
But then a mist rises from one particular grave
Beginning to take the form of a woman
The lost love he has missed for so very long

They come to dance, together once more
Watched by ravens and a thousand glowing eyes
Entwined in a gothic dance of the dead
Until once again, she will fade away
Vanishing back into the ground, whence she came
And a solitary figure of a man, walks away alone