After the gong rings at midnight
And the tickye fog`s coming down ,
You hear a creak that seems to bite ;
It`s Lady with Mowing -walking on the ground .

And she has long, beautiful lashes
Just like the princess of dark ,
But her burnt hands has signs of wrinkles
And in each eye you see a red spark .

Her brunt, weird parfume smells like clay
And it is pushing with power your chest .
We all know that must come a day
When in her world , in peace we will rest .

Her long dress made by delicate night
Like a bride`s train crawls on the ground .
She`s holding a candle in her left side
That burns very slowly and with no sound .

Slowly , with patience , she waits sitting there
Suffering souls . Ready to reap
She comes near them just from nowhere ,
Putting in them her mowing , too deep .

Often she cryes with tears of blood;
Death is a woman , and she`s beautiful !
Convicted to live eternal in mud ,
She met the macabre, misery...awful!

Transforming her pain in rings , she ties ,
With strong and sturdy chains of fire ,
Each soul , in the moment when he has to die ,
Loosing in her clutches any desire .

Lady in Black is sleeping right now ,
But she knows that the Sun will melt in the sky .
She`ll come from nowhere , without knowing how ,
And in her powerful hug i will die...