I feel like the star of a beautiful
Masquerade made of feathers of swans...

She takes another hesitant step;
Down the jagged halls...

A mother;
Loving and Protective...

The cold of night made its sudden appearance...
"Follow mine own footsteps, in cover of...

There are too many days
Where it feels like I'm dreaming...

Through the broken carnage,
of torn bodies, and destroyed cars...

You can be like the handsome sun,
And I'll be your pretty little moon...

I swear I can fly
On these butterfly wings of mine...

As he gave her a flower--
its scent alluring and seductive...

He was a walking wasteland,
Laying the hand of death...

Eyes touch a solemn sky,
A subtle embrace...

I wanna the be the girl,
That's sung about...