To no surprise, he sees you weep Your former love entombed at six feet deep
That Sunday evening, you know it all too well Your hands so frigid and all attempts had been made to dispel the notion that you just wouldn’t die Thank goodness for the lumber your husband cultivated for the night
Wealthy nobles, a class above the top Your fortune, everlasting, but this glee is shattered by a
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
"With temperatures so below, who could be so mad?"
They gaze upon the front door, uncertain what bedlamite Would dare approach this lovely home in arctic climate in midst of the night They gaze upon the front door, unaware what bounty lies For her husband’s head delivered to a man willing to pay the price Former peasant treated as a slave Now with capabilities to put his former master in a grave
The assailant awaits the door to creak His blade glimmering mystique
"Into the night escapes your soul Profusely bleeding, body cold Muscles relax after I pull the blade from your chest, off I go Collect my wages My fund for mages To become eternally made Vampiric destiny awaits"Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
