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The ghosts of your past fall in beside you
As you walk down the street and into the square
Somebody calls you, you ignore the question
It's the girl in the red dress you murdered in spring

Turning the page for the ghosts of tomorrow
The friendless and weak leave their blood on your hands
Burning with rage, swimming in sorrow
You won't be alone, for your ghosts will be there

Look down from the great height at the figure below you
And into the distance of a world unaware
Touching the leg where the flesh and the bone meet
Folding the skin, combing the hair

Turning the page for the ghosts of tomorrow
The friendless and weak leave their blood on your hands
Burning with rage, swimming in sorrow
You won't be alone, for your ghosts will be there

Text přidal Scoth

Video přidal Scoth

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