Darkness Becomes You.
By Kaleigh Strange

Brush the blood off my cheek, Kiss my hand, sweep me off my feet. You, my bonnie lad, I'm here to set you free.

White chapel's dark haven, Is my soul's black sanctuary. Your soul's a spotted sheep, Your mind's my darkness same.

I'll walk the filthy streets of London, Courtesan's and drunk's are side by side. A carriage of black clack's on the cobblestones, Black horses are the escort into darkness.

You are the ferrymen for the sinful, You guide the damned to their fate. But tonight the one who shall guide is I. Tonight I find a darkness my greater.

See me in my gentlemen's clothing, Though I am too lithe to be so. The coach whisks me away into the night, With you guiding the reins.

Let us discard the mask of society, We will break through the fa├žade. Tonight, in this city of London, Our spotted souls will join.

Tonight we will say: "Darkness becomes you."