choking, I'm choking I'm dying in my sleep though your bones are getting shiny it's your promises I keep I dug your grave not far from here in a forest that I drew so that I won't walk a thousand miles to see whats left of you one winter nighy I dug your grave and placed you safe inside by the time the sun would shine again you'ld have your last goodbye from now.. no time for prayers to handmade gods... we're made of dust and dust is what we use to calm our lust we must not fight and kill the things in wich we trust in every hunter there's a pray for us... we're made of dust