Crumbling away in a torrent of dust
Rotting away into fragments of rust
Rainfall collects into pools in the street
Reflected by the light of the moon
Recollections of laughter carried by wind
Echoes of joy, once so bright now so dim
Faces forgotten, obscured by a shadow
Erased by the light of the moon

Is there hope for the sun to rise once more?
Is there hope for the warmth to return?

How can a king rule a kingdom
That's empty and dead, buried and gone?
How can a king rule a kingdom
That's naught but the light of the moon

The last leaf fell from these trees long ago,
The flowers here will never bloom
This land is infected by a sickening blight
Hidden by the light of the moon
How is there rain from a cloudless sky?
How is there laughter when all have died?
When only one man still walks these streets
So red is the light of the moon

Is there hope for the sun to rise once more?
Is there hope for this king beneath a moon incarnadine?

King of Nothing

Blood in the streets, ash falling from the sky
Faces in the windows, hanging from the rafters
Laughter from a sinister mind
Murderer of all mankind

King of Nothing

With a delicate hand, he tends to his subjects
So tenderly, he cares for them one and all
He walks these streets beneath the moon so red
Just to see each and every smile that he carved himself

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