Cold - Psychotic Waltz

Flashes of the devil’s eye

Crying at the shadow of the sun

Faceless, and godless

The killing floor is only killing me With the sream of the morning cold

Faces, and gazes

Dancing through the mazes of the sky

They steal the breath of the sleeping dogs

To steam the great machine and start the ride

Shaking, and breaking

With the silence of a stranger passing by With the breath of the morning cold

Just like the death of the morning cold