Living under the haunted moon.
Dancing under the whispering skies. 
She's a collection on misleading dreams
and love's so long ago departed. 
Missing the sounds of the underground -
the howling feelings in her heart.
The Old World's laying within her eyes.
So relentlessly burning. 
So radical.
She's flying above of this world so rotten,
scorching seas and grounds so dark.

Singing out the carnival of her heart.

There used to be a haven,
you know?