When their arms reach out for you

They seise thy heart for an atrocies embrace

With demoniac fingers the shroud covers your face

And then you know: thou shall die



Pursued by nothing zhan your fear

But their steps resounding in your tortued ears

Tormenting your soul, no place to hide

No sword to fight: thou shall die



You struggle when you hear them coming

And every step you run, thousand pursue your poor soul

Demoniac laughter when they tear off little parts

You're bleeding when times and feelings come off and die

Every tick of the hand a part of you

When you crowl to the tombstone of thine

You know

You die

In pieces

Time to resign

But you are already dead.