The heroine's done for the night labored in her breathing
Icy wooden floors resonate and splinter
Into a labyrinthine construct
Her boots muddy from the high tide
Turning the lights out, turning the lights out
Turning them out, she makes it clear
It's not going to be a new day for her to sense the depth of the seas
No auspices, just fitful sleep, enough to make her disappear
Oh, oh
Her head still filled with the noise from the fiery tempest
Red surrounds the haze from the moment she was cast down
Alas, she crawls through the blackest fields
Crumbling walls of the gravest courtyard
Brought with her a scattergun
Will blow their brains to kingdom come
There will be no surrender, the bloodiest crypt
Of a thousand leads to the underground
Signs, they just meet her or else she just knows to take a turn
Too wise to let the seconds be owned
Sells herself as more and more ticks break
Ticks break, taking her away from escape
This cloister held in the depths of hell
Hell!
Beneath the dirt it lurks forever in the terror
Her mind's a curdled maze, envisage a head case
Blowing apart the pirouettes
Their endless streams of swirling hatred
Turning the lights out, turning the lights out
Turning them out, she makes it clear
It's not going to be a new day
Oh no
It's not going to be a new day
Oh