Chelsea Wolfe · Winter (2006)


We move like smoke through the room. 
Buried down. 
Don't make a sound.
Your fingertips shutting your mouth. 
Enemies are waiting at our door. 
They have not forgotten what we've done to them the night before. 
Our ghosts follow every step we move. 
They know we won't make it till the evening. 
They sing "Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
The sky is red. 
My bones are aching. 
My wounds are bleeding. 
My knees are kneeling. 
Please Lord, please Lord, deliver us. 
"Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
Singing "Are we dead?" 
And they're falling back down. 
Lay my grave with me my love. 
We'll die side by side, hand in hand. 
And our ghosts follow us in the winter. 
And the winter is taking us down. 
And the wind is blowing snow in our. bodies. 
She's opening the woodwork; 
and she's sealing us inside, to remain there as a secret, for some other lifetime. 
And she's opening the woodwork of urn; 
She's sealing us inside. 
I don't care, just take my hand. 
Oh, just take my hand and die with me, my love.

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