Dusk till dawn we dance to death's song,
like puppets on strings we sway.
With a flick of his wrist the music stops,
and so are the end of our days.

Crimson red,
Bubbles in your head,
Seeps out on your bed,
Tears will shed,
When they find you dead.

Six feet below in a wooden box,
Lies the stunningly beautiful Amillia Lox.
She reluctantly left her mortal life,
By her secret admirer with a gleaming sharp knife.
He crept through her window but she woke up too late,
Her parents had found her in a decapitated state.
Now here she is, Amillia lox.
Six feet below in her wooden box.

Under a violet moon,
In the darkness of night,
Demons fright,
******'s delight,
Innocent's plight,
In the darkness of night,
Under a violet moon.