Keep still, some hands can hear
every slow gasp that mouth emits
soft skin, now painted in red
looks better than the paleness ever did
autumn season is so serene
death displays its mass production
decayed leaves tumble to the earth
much like your head fell tonight
Dance this last dance, with your father
On this bleeding floor
(on this floor of blood)
Stay quiet, for my hands to hear
all the air escape from your throat
as your head topples to the floor
I allow the theft of one last glance
autumn season is so serene
death displays its mass production
decayed leaves tumble to the earth
much like your head fell tonight
Dance this last dance, with your father
On this bleeding floor
(on this floor of blood)