• In a house,
    covered in moss and mold.
    layed a girl,
    her heart ice cold.

    in the mirror,
    next to the bed.
    plays a constant song,
    the song of the dead.

    So every night,
    with a cresent moon.
    her corpse dances
    to the evil tune.

    she will dance and sing
    with a warmhearted bliss
    under the cresent moon
    till true loves kiss.