Sometimes I feel like weaving a tale so tragic
A blade which would make even Death nostalgic
Make people stay wide awake through nights
In mute ways of terror and endless fright

Underneath insides of men stapled to the sky
And silence offered to screams as hopes die
A crowded song of panic where they keep
The most vivid of their fears in restless sleep

I ask the winds to make the night cry for me
I ask the shadows to make the light die for me
I ask the branches to crackle and tell a secret
Into ready ears and also tell them to keep it

Drifting in darkness I make them try to touch
The rotten corpses of their own dreams and hopes
I whisper with certainty that they've run of of luck
Tell them that the magic blade cuts to the bone

So in desperation and alarm they finally scream
That merciless secret into nothingness unseen
The secret of their souls in ignorance pretending
Knowing nothing about the night never ending