Out from the new days mist I run
Away from the sandman, here he comes
To harvest my sarrows
I can feel death creeping toward me
So what you say
What if he comes to seek and destroy you
He is the master of puppets
He comes to welcome you home
He goes whever I may roam
To live is to die and for what
To be a disposable hereo
To be unforgiven two
Kristopher R.R.Rowe