• I fool myself with these thoughts of you
    So clearly made up and made to say
    That soon, the sky's gonna clear
    And we can once again
    Together look at the moon.

    Dreaming of your scent, your smile, your voice
    Cause everything now only exists in dreams
    In memories most treasured, so carefully kept
    In ice licked by Hell's eternal flames.

    The angels have fallen again
    For the unknown time they've failed
    As the glass goblet falls to peices
    With some peices glimmering red.

    The gray sonata of the orchestra
    Begins to transcend in its darkest sound
    The music it has produced,
    Thelament of a dying hound.

    These razors drip rubies
    As its silver gleams in the pale moon's light
    A sigh, some stained floors
    Alas! Tis the end
    Of the incoherent shatter of her pulse.

    Smoke rise to the chimney tops
    As charcoals bleed below
    As it incinerates the lifeless body
    Of poor Klaud von Gore.