The fog is rising and the wind is blowing cold as the old lady is walking down the road From her feet the ice is spreading and from her teeth, dripping blood The raven on her shoulder is howling with laughter
Why be forgiven of her? You haven't sinned No use to satisfy yourself when you know your're going to die
Centurys. through ages her ghost will forever wonder A restless soul that will be like thunder She's the reaper, you're the harvest You'll be the light of her moon She'll be satisfied as you scream Your blood will be your doom
A cape so black, torn by the wind the skinny hand towards you the grinning face smiles at you as you turn blindTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
