There are lots of things you lost
In the misty blue forest.
You will see what you did
And the promise you forgot.

The past has flown over there
As if a released baloon.
It's the sixth grave wait for you
Hinding in fog of fear.

A faded nightmare come back to you
Singing from the depth of the woods.
He will sneak into your heart
And draw your entrails as a cudlly toy.

A bird fell of a green branch;
Who killed poor little Robin?
Who scratced and teared you to pieces
By his dirty, bloody clow?

See you later
See you later
See you later
See you later
See you later
See you later