The more that I think of the wings I have cut.
I feel no remorse for those prey after all.
The artist's hands are so delicate with touch.
They all have their tales of me but...
As I be, the heavens can't stop me and
I won't concede anymore.
You must see this constant execution.
Deliver these wings to the one.
As the daylight shades.
I shall fill these graves.
Fulfilling my needs, The artist's deeds.
I am wide awake.
One thousand eyes look upon me.
All filled with tears.
I offer my hand as a symbol of trust.
The artist has seen throughout all of your fears.
Lure you all in with seduction and lust.
If I pull the blade on enough of those young,
I'm the memory, that you'll never lose.
With enough feathers, I will be the one.
I'm the memory that you will never lose.

For I am the artist with delicate hands...