Dealing with evil, shaking the reaper's hand, You sold him your soul, now he seals your fate. The poison in your blood soon took all control, In the realm of shadows, on the razor's edge you crawl.
The phantom's reflect in your mirror; The phantom of whom you were before. It's not too late, turn back the wheel, And avoid this awfull fall. The phantom's reflect in your mirror; The phantom of whom you were before. It's not too late, time's getting short, And hard will be the road.
Black trip in hell through shadowland Roaming without aim through shadowland
Now, what's the use in your "search for freedom", You'll never be free addicted to the needle. You enter this world, the realm of the slaves, The eternal fall, you dig your own grave.
