My canvas smeared with blood-red tears, Lachrythmation of the dead
By life betrayed to endless sleep, to live within a dream
once dressed as white as wintersnow, now drenched in blood I lay
The pulse within, like ice still pounds, like frost throughout my veins

In blindless cwawls, through the maze of time
through the sinister dark, the meander of dreams
My hear is cold, every beat now hurts
As a sculpure of stone I rest

As a statue with a broken heart, in my gallery of dreams as art
as lifeless drawings to behold and explore, my life within the dark
Embraced within the veils of death, encircled in its web
To witness life beyond the dead, on dreamers doss I lay.

A reflection of my past, from the unkown mirrorglas
beholds my sepulchral rest
As a shadow of me from death torn free
to walk the path of dreams

My canvas smeared with blood-red tears, Lachrythmation of the dead
By life betrayed to endless sleep, to live within a dream
once dressed as white as wintersnow, now drenched in blood I lay
The pulse within, like ice still pounds, like frost throughout my veins

I follow his call from the other side and leave my petrified flesh behind
With the part of me that never died, Ifinally unite

The pulse within, like ice still pounds, the frost throughout my vei