The Violet Fog
At midnight every time the moon shines
And i walk to a grave while i stepped on some pines
I look into the grave and there appears to have a violet fog
As i look at the grave closely while sitting on a log.
I lit up a cigarette,
And remembered the first day we have met
And i smile and remember
I still don't know if i'm drunk or sober.
Crows makes a loud caw,
And i sit and stare at your grave and draw
Sounds of the wolves cannot cause me fear,
Even my sickness has worsen and i think my end is near.
The violet fog gets thicker and thicker
I pulled out my pistol but will i pull the trigger?
I want to be with you again,
But will i meet you there in heaven?
