It would be my love,
If I could only remember fear,
When devils danced on broken glass,
And all the woes of my world will pass.
Tiny little goblins race the street,
Falling hard beneath Evils’ feet.
And cauldrons boiling with a rage,
‘twill be my end, my bet is waged.
Stony serpents caress my heart,
When life is lost and we must part.
A furnace feeds my woeful soul,
And I know no good, another role.
My face will melt upon the sun,
As my legs are racing, trying to run.
Before the gates of hell freeze over,
My hope is lost, my lots cast over.
For I will crave the Devils’ eye,
And spit upon heaven before I die.
To be at peace in Hades shade,
This sin is mine, my bed is made.