Walk this line
my time with mine
down this lonely road.
The ghosts of all
shall crawl and bawl
down this way right after.
The moon is young,
its time begun,
it rises with pale light.
Far beyond,
hidden in fog,
They search and roam at night.
Click clack clink
click clack clink
spindly legs timed like dancers.
All that\'s left is dead ghost metal,
searching for ones with answers.
Lay still now dear child of mine
and pray they see you not...
For this new world is for the dead,
let sleeping giants rot.