i met him at a masquerade, a silly place
where people do not need names.

wearing the mystery of the night,
dancing under the raw spotlight,
his honey lips, his indecisive eyes
were feeding innocent souls with lies.

but then i saw him, at midnight,
alone and hidden with his one light
-the lonely moon, the queen of dead
in front of whom his cheeks turned red.

he was just a tragic moonlover
when the masquarade was over.
oh, that poor disguised angel
made falling in love seem so fatal...

i was out dancing in the rain
when i felt the heat of the sunrise.
perhaps a thunder lightened
my heart and the top of my fingers
or perhaps a thunder made me
be the darkest i will ever be.
but somehow then i was alive.

this blanket doesn't
keep you warm
so you close your eyes
and beg for
more and more life.

now your world is cold
because when
you were up high
you stared at the sun
when others jumped
and killed the light.

now it feels like
you lost your mind.