She's got to many troubles on her mind.
Her father told her to leave this was too much trauma.
For a poor widower's soul, she wants to die,
She was once happy, before she was buried beneath the sand.

You can't save her now, she's going to the guillotine,
You can't save her now. (x2)

I woke last night to hear the screaming of a child,
But it wasn't mine.
I doubt this fairytale will put me back to sleep,
(She put me back to sleep),
But what the hell.

I opened the bathroom door,
Dead there on the floor wrapped in towels was a small child,
So they say she was bearing a child when she was put to death but now,
My imagination is going too far.
(?)

So I went to the man in white, he said,
Go to the south, you'll find redemption there.
Why the south I don't know why, but you must trust me.
Therapy!

Then the man in white fell to his knees...

To my former self, this is my scrapbook,
I'll paint my walls, you'll see me there,
I've seen a masterpiece, covered in blood
He's a ghost, a broken dream,
Access my mind, make me a believer.

I woke last night to hear the screaming of a child,
But it wasn't mine.
I doubt this fairytale will put me back to sleep,
(She put me back to sleep)
But what the hell.

'Cause the four-horsemen of the apocalypse are coming,
And they're not bringing flowers. (x2)

Keep me awake,
You'll find we have something in common.

Yes sir.

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