wicked sounds coming,

the days seeing it’s end,

midnight ain’t a time,

its a fact of life,

the rider is crying,

the signs are melting,

we keep calling for the saviour,

but they ain’t gonna come,

webbed feet below me,

spiders on the ceiling,

you call again,

the vibrations around me,

eyes are all watching as I twist,

you shout with burning desires,

what wickedness were you expecting,

the only a daughter given to man,

save the sinners by bury them deep,

throws your head backwards and dance,

for the moonlight is burning brightly and your chance is almost gone,

the dirt covers you slowly as time going is against you,

while the beat is going under and so are you!