Cadaveria

"Along the street death walks... crowned
Crowned with withered orange flowers,
And it sings, sings, a song
With its white guitar."
...And it sings, sings...
Would you mind if I die?
I write about sensations, moods and apparitions,
while people give parties to cover the silence.
There is no sense in feeling remorse for a thing you could not control.
And death sings, sings...