When their arms reach out for you 

They seise thy heart for an atrocies embrace 

With demoniac fingers the shroud covers your face 

And then you know:  thou shall die 



Pursued by nothing zhan your fear 

But their steps resounding in your tortued ears 

Tormenting your soul, no place to hide 

No sword to fight:   thou shall die 



You struggle when you hear them coming 

And every step you run, thousand pursue your poor soul 

Demoniac laughter when they tear off little parts 

You're bleeding when times and feelings come off and die 

Every tick of the hand a part of you 

When you crowl to the tombstone of thine 

You know 

You die 

In pieces

Time to resign 

But you are already dead.