• The stars turn to dust, and the mountains to rust
    No water to soothe my parched throat
    The wheat is red, the sun's off to bed
    But the sky does not dim, it only turns grim

    Black creatures fill the sky; wings long and surreal
    They roar with iron claws and teeth of steel
    Bodies naked, bones sticking from the skin
    Fire cracking from the streets, Hell is about to begin

    The building is black with fangs at its head
    Mother, father, two brothers, dead
    No traction on the floor, I slide hoping to cling to the walls
    But alas I slide, slide and slide
    I continue to slide, even after I fall

    The hallways are red, the lining is black
    Wires run and wires attack
    My skin made of paper, my bones from glass
    My only wish is for me to pass

    The clouds are brown and white
    There is no light
    How I wish for an Angel
    How I wish to wipe my tears
    How I wish for an Angel
    To take me from these fears

    The large black books and tomes
    Replace the belongings of my home
    Black shelfs, pointed shoulders
    No more couch and no more holders

    Through it all, all I can say
    Is that it made me turn out this way
    Hollow, decayed and cheap
    All I can say is that I have sown no seeds
    So why is it that I must reap
    The harvest of one who never bleeds
    I reap the remains of one who's blind
    The harvest of my own dimented mind