Servant to darkness calling.
The land of clovers you call home...

As dark as the day
Mysterious as night...

Pulsing red in my eyes.
Your steady hand with a fist full of steel...

Walking up right, prowling the rest.
Vanity is your name, with only one thing to say...

Setting the tone, hearing voices.
I can't believe I did it again...

To pick stars & replace them for light.
To catch snow flakes & collect them in a book...

While these flakes of purity fall,
Blood it seems, stains it's whiteness...