The First Shall Be Last

The first shall be last
And the last shall be first
That is the irony
Of my bloodthirst

I stalk the dark night
That is only lit up by the light from the windows
Barely visible
I look into your house
I see you
I see your husband
I see your children
They are sound asleep
You sit in your rocking chair
A book in your wrinkled hands
You have probably forgotten me
But I could never forget you

The first shall be last
And the last shall be first
That is the irony
Of my bloodthirst

Now the house is dark
No light exits no more
So now it is my time
My time to shine
I enter
Through the door I know you never lock
When you go to bed
So carefree a spirit
With rope in hand
And sеveral handkerchiefs
All arе bound, one by one
Quietly in the night

The first shall be last
And the last shall be first
That is the irony
Of my bloodthirst

I carry your children to the living room
Place them gently on your couch
I drag your man to the living room
And throws him to the floor
I drag you into the living room
And seat you in your rocking chair
And now this living room
Has turned into a torture chamber