...though Red September
With skies fire-paved
I begged you appear
Like a thorn for the holy ones

Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain....

So I swore to the razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again

                    (c) Craddle of filth - Nimphetamine