A sudden fresh air blowing on my back
And I notice in fact something strange
I feel I suffer, an upsetting sensation
Hidden, cold eyes making their appearance

It is a thrilling sacring premonition
It is impossible to gateaway from them

The horryfing sound of their screams
I hear it

it is the only thing I can listen to
Distinguishing them in spectral forms
Their presence for me is nearer
They smell my deep and great fear

Their figure for me is clearer
My basic instinct makes react
Trying to avoid these omened escorts

The vision of their image everywhere
They catch me and take me absolutely
I am now inside a withering twister
Don't know really where I will be lately

Weird mourners behind me
Weird mourners watching me
Weird mourners around me
Weird mourners expecting me

My voice, my thrilling screams
Joins with the condemned chorus
Composing the funeral march
Whichs evil essence is notorious

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