Your fingers are already mine.
Your fingers are already mine. Crimson trail, crimson trail. Through the city, through the mist. Hunger sharpened teeth of shadows. Through shadows where they kneel. Crimson trail, crimson trail. Hear the old machines exhale. Step by step distance fades. Red reflections in our eyes. I find her where gaslights fade, A weary stranger in shadow. Her hand hasn't yet touched his sleeve, I raise the bow and make him leave. Alone at last beneath red lights. Turn around to your hands... And die! So this is what the rain dragged in. A silver arrow in immortal skin. Your hands are steady, eyes awake, But I can hear your heart shake. Recite the sentence you rehearse. Take your shot and miss me first. First bolt cuts velvet air, She moves, the target isn't there. Second finds her silver cloak, Then sparks and bits of smoke. I hold the bow, I stand my ground, No fear, no flee, no backing down. You're finest dancer dies in sparks, Yet still you stand against the dark. To live, to run, to fight, to waste. I think I'll keep what I've chased. I take your wrist, I stop your hand, Night obeys my last command. One breath goes still, next returns. Behind your eyes my hunger burns. Crimson trail, crimson trail. Now it curls around us both. Darkness spreads chrome. No more hunter who stands alone. Crimson trail, crimson trail. Hear the old machines exhale. Side by side through gaslight streets. Now we hunt as one tonight.