Goodnight, my love,

Sleep well in your chamber,

See you in a while,

You’ll be in no danger,

From the voice that dares ask,

Any question at all,

Only the strong and the stable,

Are allowed at the ball.

Goodnight, my love,

Your skin has grown paler,

Behind the cold glass,

You’ve become your own jailer,

After closing the hatch,

On your reverberant hole,

You’ll settle comfortably into the role.

Enjoy the cocktails of blood

And inevitable flood,

Of warmth in your veins,

As you calmly peruse,

Systematic abuse.

Through the chainmail I hear,

An echo of you,

Through the telegraph wire,

And the turn of the screw.

From Heaven above,

To Hell below,

There’s a broadcast of truth,

That we’ll never know.

Goodnight my love,

It’s the last time I’ll come,

The chamber’s cold glass,

Has turned my lips numb.

Goodnight, my love,

I will cherish our time,

But I am no longer yours,

And you, no longer mine.