Tune of flute and marching shadow,
City waiting for its cleanse.
Infestation of poor judgement
lowering stone wall defence.
Song master ask nothing more
maybe coin? Or sheetless bed...
Everything must be at sleep,
when he's working, as he said.
All is down, oh all, but not
little soul in pink short gown
looking for her midnight milk,
now is marching down the town
Pinky toes stamp bloody road
Thousands feets in black parade,
marching behind tune of flute
forming deadly moonlight shade.
In the march of creepy crawlers
flute master is but a sling,
tool of magic, trance and work
Binding requests like a string.
Shore is close, oh close your eyes!!
Ribon binding black hair back
feet are moving towards sea...
Rats and roaches drowning life
in cold waves, and so is thy
Morning bringing streets fest free
Empty glass stands next to bed
but there is no one there to sleep
She lies under waters breath
People gathered to moarn loss
anger, fire rising in.
Shimmering swords, scythes and knives
To punish traitor to erase sin.
Masses cringing, twisted limbs
How do we survive this terror
Whole city is on the shore
Regretting this fatal error
Flutemans song is in the air
No one voice screams in despair
Tool of faith, the one who kill
Leading parade down the hill
One two, one two, left and right
Desolation, deadly sight
When you choose to threat him fair
Flute master will give you air
When you choose to betray master
You will wish to die now faster
Listen, there for what he said
And stay at night in your bed
