The earth is a home for most, but for some a grave
The new disease is ignorance
The new fashion trend
The price of life has a sign for negotiation
You bleed them until they can feed
You bleed them just to watch
What of the children we miss?
They should be in their beds
No goodnights for them
No pleasant dreams, dear
The cost of treachery against ones own kind is indicative of the person who spills ones blood
The ghost will never let you sleep
I hope the blood is appeased with your life
It's hard to earn a living by someone else's life
The ghosts of the children you murder will see their vengeance played out
The children won't be coming home tonight
They're sleeping in their enclosed surroundings
The children won't be coming home tonight so say your prayers and turn out the light