Restless nights in blood soaked clothes, forever watching beyond the scope of what lies beneath. Oh, come, for the soul will never heal on it's own unless for the pain of another to be ceased. Look further, yet not to become what you see, only to avoid the road for which it walks. The edges of that road crawl ahead and forsake the travelling path. Run, for it never can be stopped. As long as you are unable to fall, you will never climb a true mountain. The blood within hands are lost to the fountain. Seek a lost world, but do not let the allure take your heart. If it does, lie yourself across the ground and let the rubble crush you. Crush the soul. Crush the restless night. Seek the restless night. Run from the restless night. Look futher into the restless night. You are blood soaked in the restless night.