Breathe.
  
Its almost that time when the moon turns
and all that you hold turns on you.
And you turn into what you were always meant to be.
  
Inhale.

All the stars turn in their grave under your feet.
The angles turn their gaze toward your purity.
And all that was once black has faded to green.
  
Exhale.

Fate is turning in your favor while the past burns
While your ancestors singing turns into screaming
And your pinebox is rotting in a bleak dark cemetery

Choke.

On the empty curses you have promised.
On silver bullets and silver rings
And as you take your last breath feel the warmth from the ocean breeze.