• The knife twisted
    As the light listed
    The haze grew stronger
    Fight in me, no longer

    Like mist on the mountain
    As I prepared to die
    Blood spewed like a fountain
    No motive, nor reason why

    The serpent upon me
    Like moths to the flame
    I writhed in agony
    At the voice of the pain

    It screamed, it beckoned
    Embrace the flame
    Then as I reckoned
    I started to go insane

    All aboard the wicked
    Runaway Train
    The undeniably wicked
    Runaway Train