The veil.
The mask...

What would I do?
Even if I had you...

Oh how the lies
Have weaved themselves...

These nights.
These nights are filled with...

I make shadows dance away
And fall back to the floor...

I ache for that
One true feeling...

She seems black and white
but the colours are blinding...

My knuckles are turning white,
And the gun in my hand grow warm...

Its all in my head,
This disease is debilitating...

What can I do?
But just let this happen...

Sometimes sadly
Sometimes gone...

These Cold Nights
Are Eating Me Alive...