Forsaken in their arms, away,
Those crows, covering the sunlight...

I'm on my knees tonight,
writing the last sad words...

Put me on the ground,
Suck the cold blood from my knees...

Familiar faces,
Greed is their name...

There is no air to breathe
As if I've got a thorn in my throat...

The final debate:
The Devil...

The blood countess (Elizabeth Bathory)
A dark haired beauty of tender years...

Darkness falls.
And I'm surrounded by gloomy walls...

Let's talk about the real art,
Including its beauty and its dark part...

My emotions are en-wrapped.
Yeah, this time I am really trapped...

I am not living a lie.
It's actually the naked truth...

Hate is not fire torturing me inside,
It's the pleasure of the pain I feel tonight...