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