Don't you dare search for my innocence
because all you'll find will be a bucket full of bones
hanging on that barbed wire fence,
where this shadow of a former lover eternally moans

My chariot is going to the cliff
We always tend to fall.
The wheel of fortune is now the wheel of grief
And it’s just about to roll.

Skeletal dancers, make way for the spider queen to pass
I’m ready to go into my coffin and sleep.
Tears in funerals always look like glass.
I’m laying with a smile, so don’t you weep.

Don’t you dare to speak about love
I take this word as pure insult
I need no feelings to evolve
So don’t hate me,it is not my fault.

Rings and jewels don’t appease me I fear.
A tiara of nerves on my head.
It takes more than ears to hear
And enjoy the hymn of the undead.

Wings of blood and pale flesh
Torn veins replaced with thread.
Shiny shoes and a black dress
And a wooden scarlet bed.

Today let us mourn and let us bury
soil prepare for your guest.
Pray for a dying faerie
eternally you may rest.

angels with shining hallos
are nothing more than hopes.
If you look closer,you’ll see the gallows
And the men hanging from the ropes.

This is not a fest of sorrow
I realize my position
I am the bride, the hollow
And become forage of maggots is my mission.

Oh!These kind strokes of cold
Decay will never lose its touch.
So many these days have their souls sold.
But I don’t care….at least much.

Evil girls never go to heaven
And I am not a very good girl.
One, Two and on to seven.
When I ring the doorbell of hell

Say,I am a wicked woman.
A dark vision of the lost and unclean.
Oh!But it’s malice that makes me human
Otherwise I would be an animated sin.

The grave is a holy sanctuary
Just like a church,there I can dream.
Devoted to an underground monastery
Listening to the hymn.

A funeral is just another wedding
and Death is the groom.
It is almost never ending
Until you meet your doom.

Listen to the birds of prey
They sing this song right now.
Slowly, I realize I cannot stay
So as the curtain closes I must hurry for a bow.

Quickly, pick up your top hats and cover the corpse
The dawn is coming,so we must leave on time.
It’s natural, of course
I’d like to explain but I would ruin the rhyme.

It goes on and on and on
The hymn of the undead.
You’ll whistle it when you’re alone.
It will stay buried, like my body, in your head