Crying, dying, leaving bride,
comes with the black chest.
Want to be the sleeping beauty,
who comes with the dark beast.
Blue eyes, dark hair, everything is crying.
Blood-red smiling will be dying.
And only pain will stay.
The song of the children of the night.
They don't sing it when the day is bright.
Sirens sang beauty sonatas sonorous.
They can enthrall everyone but me,
when I cry for my freedom.
Crying, lying, creeping bride.
Be scared, but it's not good reason to
want to be the sleeping beauty,
who will come never again.
Red eyes, sharp teeth, everything is laughing.
But any amount I swear that I won't be lying,
Promises always breaking.
The song of the children...
Cry, Creep, Cringe and Crawl.
When the sun won't help you anymore.
The song of the children..
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