Lyrics
Stood there leaning to the city moon, casting silhouettes tall to grip her white room
lack-clad voyeur in his black-clad masque in the serpentine sun of tragedy basked Stood there cursing
oul-dead mass with their fabled illusions, the vain dreams that passed splinters of a life rushing by
hirl alone, silent warrior in a fantasy world He cried for night / but night could not come so, swept
shroud of misanthropia he went away and fed the empty galleries with the artifacts of the black rain sunken into
