• Take my hand and come with me
    through the trees lets be free.
    Once we're there you will open up,
    cry out your life, talk about how your stuck.
    As you relax you start to die.
    Trusting my every word, as I lie.
    You should be running full of fear,
    but you lay before me, drinking with out a care.
    You doze off, shake your head and wake.
    Lifted in the air, held by rope, tide to a stake.
    You feel the blade move down your chest.
    Blood flowing out, you hope you don't lose the rest.
    Then you feel the fire at your feet,
    its too late you've been dead a week.
    You should have know at the rave,
    that you were messing with a guy from the grave.
    The black clothes and the mud on his shoes,
    smell of blood, I'm the man off the news.
    So maybe you should not have ran with me.
    If you could not handle the ecstasy.