• I'm telling the truth, but it feels like I'm lying.
    I'm still alive, but in this scene I'm dying.
    From a blow to the heart I'm lying on the ground,
    watching myself in the snow, never making a sound.

    Then the darkness slowly pulls me under,
    my heart's the prey this knife the hunter.
    The melancholy phantoms sigh
    singing out my blood red lulliby.
    My last lulliby.