Through the decadent streets Some 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
