| <> page <Besides The Abyss> album page |
Dark HillThrough the decadent streetsSome delicate fiends, float From the shadows to the street light Some faces of pale, unveil So silent and still I grab your scarlet hands And I take you, and hold you Hard We reach the top of this dark, dark hill And my heart rattles Against my ribs A misty path with frowning trees Whispering They poke from view Of an icy moon And talks protrude Of doom and gloom |