On the seventh day
he arrived to stay,
a sky so grey opened up for him.
Like a hallow man,
he kneels down to pray
without a shame, calling her name.
The rope's caress, it's oh, so tight.
A hanged man's love the last
Rope is tight, so f*****g tight.
Her fragile touch the last thing he felt.
As the evening crawls
she feels the loss when the wind weeps through,
the promise carved in cross.
In the evil
dusk she disappear for the lust,
lost love that sears.