Sonata Arctica - The Vice

Number nine out of eleven little litter mates
Rotten apples, all the way
Litter mates, all with different fates
Taught them almost all I knew

And now, the best, the primus
Number Nine of eleven little litter mates,
Feeling almighty,
Is after my throne.

In the bright daylight, little Number Nine
Dressed to kill, much like me
Takes a look at the free world behind the gate
Of a castle and escapes.

I leave the baits, the night awaits
Snare well hidden for the litter mate.
Evaded all but one, one by one.

Eleven little litter mates
Annihilate.
Only Number Nine's not in sight
Hiding, for the moonlight eats the day
Kisses burn the paper thin wings away

Hate me, hate me, if they want you to break me
Love ? is ? for the weak
And the restless, relief in the end.
A broken lock and a twisted dream

For an early tomb, destiny's overruled
Trailed it back to the Pagan Cathedral."

Don't love me, don't you dare!
I lie, I cheat and I don't care
Don't you go telling me tales about fidelity.
Truth ain't safe with me

In (sane), in (pain)
Ran into a needle
Eye (love), Eye (hate)
Don't need anyone
Lights (on), Lights (out)
Read it loud and clear
And hear the lion roar.

Without my eyes, they failed me,
Knots untied.
I turned my weakness into a
Fine profession
More I hear, more I see
I can feel
The path I choose
What I did was a must,
Faced the music, away from the light, alone
Without a view.

Someone thought to know me well
Drowned me in a wishing well
Making mistakes, we all do,
Worst of mine was trusting in a stranger.

For now I'm feeling fine
Drank poison, liked the sign
Now touch the greatest fear
Impaired, to look sincere.

One step behind you, turn around and I am gone with what I need.
The essence of timely death, cold and dark, Love Less Hard.

Written by:
TONY KAKKO

Publisher:
Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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