Maybe my soul will mend when I won\'t be haunted by ghosts of the past,
When you\'ll stop chasing me around for my sins.
I\'ll go to a place with no ghosts and no stories
And no people who despise me for whispers.
There will be no castles to crumble,
No witches who steal homes
Claiming they build cities,
No liars with sweet toungues
Singing ballads of gossip,
No allies with black lungs
Bathing in their disloyalty.
They will all stay here in their black paradise,
Dancing in their rotten love wishing they could leave;
In their spoilt homes with their depraved darlings,
And their pride will steal all the words to get out.