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Someone believes she comes in the coldest night of the winter |
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Her rake will have spikes so thin my soul will never get through |
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Because I am heavy, fed in sins and envy uncouth |
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And my life belongs to her, queen of the deepest place in the world |
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Someone tells she'll be a grim old lady grinding teeth frighteningly |
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In the darkest passage of my land she'll be waiting for me to fall |
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To rake my thoughts and memories away from earth |
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And have my soul forever in her kingdom under the deepest place in the world |
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And they say there'll be no place to go she will not reach |
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Because she's thief, famine and pest |
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The murder awaiting in the darkest passage of my land |
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And they say there's no other outcome for every story |
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Because she's the mother of all lives strives |
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The murder awaiting in the darkest passage of my land |
