Dark rooms, wine, people of many different religions and walks of life dressed in black, black lipstick, clove cigarettes, dancing… the misunderstood and forsaken beauty of goth music culture… most of you will not understand, never understand. Some of you will think these lovely creatures of the night worship some dark god or devil, because you would rather see evil in your neighbour’s eye and ignore the yoke in your own…

But some of you gave us a smile and a knowing wink, because you knew there was no devil, no satan in our soul’s chemistry, you knew that we, the forsaken just expressed art. To you who embraced us… my love and respect.

I’m over it You see I’m falling in a vast abyss

Clouded by memories of the past

At last I see I hear it fading, I can’t speak it

Or else you will dig my grave

We feel them fighting, always whining

Take my hand now, be alive