I'm well,
if you're not
I like to make you suffer
so that my lust increases
I poison arrows
to hit your heart
Foltergeist
who always travels with you
who knows the most of you
Foltergeist
I'm welded to you
until your thread of life is torn apart
It could be better
I let the hounds run
and from the knife I lick
the bloud from your wounds
I am your dungeon
putting the screws on you
making you suffer
and throuing white pigeons