Žodžiai dainai: Dark Lunacy. The Diarist. Pulkovo Meridian.

:
In the night, from the hill
Creeping shadows, cold caress
On your face, hit the ground
And feel the blaze
One of all, young and scared
In a nameless tale to write
By my type, where do I begin

Thrust into you
The splinters of life
Fading away, lost in your mind
On