There's a rumor
That you're speaking in tongues
And you've lost all control
Motor functions not a power you hold
Least not a power of yours
Oh, queen of mischief
Mysterious one
I want your beautiful soul
Your tales are legend
The things that you've done
They say you're not of this world
Contorted angel
They sent you a priest
But you were busy I'm told
You're a weapon
Of the darkest design
You claim you're centuries old
Now come with me
Suffer as my fugitive
Sliding in between
Other worlds
Into dreams
You and I infiltrate, horror
Manifesting screams
Take them down
Unholy spectre
Can this be the end
Am I finally free
Transmission in the marks on my skin
You know I've tried to come clean
You know I've tried to come clean
Oh, let this be a dream
