Each scream, and plea fills with dread after the night is said.
The longing forces are drifting as birds sing a sad song.
Each mourning ful cry Will become dry.
As the morning trys, and leaves the gloom town in melting despair.
We walk along the river in a forest, to the hanging tree.
Just you and me will paint the tree red.
As our thoughts stick in our head.
Their death effects oh so bad.
We jump, long rope hugging our throughts.
