Arakne Lyrics

As an imperfect form

That smells of mold when

Stopped hand of the clock will move

It only to show that I'm the fool

Light cast on the shadow less contour

Who has a hand that does not know its twin

My hearth is racing, deaf to it's next beat

Pumping blood to mist covered head

Can't unravel

All these hours

Cursed is a day from which you can't wake up

I rest myself in open flame

Day-dreaming of the first gate of hell

From the ashes you will compose my deeds

As an imperfect form

That smells of mold

Moved hand of the clock will surely stop

I breathed but at what cost

Light cast on the shadowless contour

Who has a hand that does not know its twin

My hearth is racing, deaf to it's next beat

Pumping blood to mist covered head

Can't unravel

All these hours

Cursed is a day from which you can't wake up