Far beyond the grasp on motal hand
In the depths of imagination
We soar high above the cites and trees

Your black wings create shadows
My white ones create light
Once we were enemies
Now friends

Oh my demon
Oh my devil
Would you still feel the same

If I told you what really happened
That cold morning in November?

Would you still crave my touch
Would you still hold me close
Or would you leave

After realizing I was a human
Pretending to be an Angle?

From sunrise
to sunset
we learn to
make our way

From dusk
to dawn
we lay in
the bed we've made

We rise
to fall
That's the only
way

No one
escapes their fate
except in their dreams
while on the bed they lay

Where everything
is made right
from wrong

to the bed
of dreams
we've gone

You are the last rose in autumn before winter
on cold night bright defying the muted sky