Golden Trinckets

Same stranger awaits at my door I only hear his lonesome lore When I'm alone with you A sharp knife is the weapon of choice I hold ot close when I hear the voice But fire works here too We've lost track of whose to blame Just make sure you say my name When you moan, is it for me ? Is it not ? A little emotion from my tiny soul, All you lovely faces I'll soon forget, I'll trade for some golden trinckets And a picture of the god I worship. We could ring those pagan bells, We could fashion some brand new spells, And sing it inbetween the echoes. He don't talk, he merely breathes, I d'ont choke, I just say : « Please ! Will you go ? Will you let me be ? » Still singin' at my chamber door, I still hear his lonesome lore, When you moan, is it for me ? Is it not ? A little emotion from my tiny soul, All you lovely faces I'll soon forget, I'll trade for some golden trinckets And a picture of the god I worship.