In The Tragic Play

A Marionette Of The Clock

Pages Filled With A Chronicle In Blood

Scents And Sights,come Back To Me

My Life In Memories, Makes Me Want To Go

Try And Hold On To What's Left Of All

The Golden Scenes I Forever Want To Know

The Curtains Are Lifted

Reveal A Spectacle Of Rare

'Til The Final Act I Am Your Tragic One

Soaring In The Wind

Sounds - So Transcendent

So Faint And Softly

Carries Me Above

Scents And Sights...