The crystals of pain
fall down on her skin...

So baby I'm in your head
and now ill warn you to let go...

Perfect worlds
all made of glass...

Its funny when the times we shared
smolder into nothing...

Thought of whats to come
are flooding through her head...

Out of my hands
out of my grasp...

Spins round and round
The dancer goes...

Maybe if you open your eyes
and look at your window...

When things are quiet perfect
you are forced to work...

One upon a time
when the world was young...

Mirror mirror
On the wall...

In those Trenches.
In those trenches they will die...