Bang that drum you have in your hands.
Paint all my green trees black.
To let the dark moth take flight.
Little shadow boy come here, why are you hiding from me?
As you hold up the number 5.
5 spreading across the walls like a cursed number.
A bleeding number haunting my dreams, like a recurring nightmare.
Little drummer boy, banging your drum every night for I can awake in fright.
Dying trees, broken moths.
I found that this where you dwell.
With your red eyes, and pointed fangs.
Little shadow boy!
How I miss you...
Showing your number 5.
when I found you by that grand oak tree.
My dear drummer boy, for you were hanging by your neck.
With moths painted black circling.
The flies dining of thy flesh.
A tree coated in blood.
Dripping down from cutting.
Oh drummer boy! How you haunt me every night.
Pounding, sounding your spirit alarms.
The demon of my eternal guilt.
For not saving you in time...