Just as a reminder from your autumn graces,
as the night ignites the day,
will there be a moon to guide us,
in the night all we see is black.
Beseiged by the silhouette of the armored gates,
and the pallid rows of cold stone marks of fate,
take your time it will always wait.
It will watch you with sifting eyes,
like some ravenous bird,
in some crackwise disguise,
overcast when the candle dies,
one more along the lines.
It will watch you while your asleep,
gazing eyes, your soul to keep.
It will watch you when you are asleep.
Wonder when, wonder how,
ponder pain, it could be now.
You'll never know with it's sifting eyes,
when he rips he comes as one big disguise,
or keep you hanging on a thread,
death laughs in disguise.
Latent low in the wasted wood,
the untreated corpse, deep in earth.
And the flowers tell that fairytale,
that life succeeds the grave.
See the shadow of the gates,
and the pallid rows of cold stone marks of fate.
Take your time it will always wait.
And it's not up to me that there's nothing left to be...
And it's not up to me that there's nothing left to be...
And it's not up to me that there's nothing left to be...
And it's not up to me that there's nothing left to be...