Winter's Plague

I have to be your wrong answer
we loathe this night
it's not what it's supposed to be,a better tie to burn
the cold is in my heart created
a better me
will you accept despise

you - why you loathe me, i've become regrets
why - you loathe me, i focus on all the pain
i can't begin to feed - endlessly

ive got a better dream
without you being apart of me
i force a broken reclaim
upon my hands, the blood of a saint
i set myself free from this and all disease
the winter will take you away

Low - Below - the ground - you'll find me
Under grave snow, on my head stone
Low Below The ground you'll find me