Drinking wine under the charming moon,
Drinking their sorrows away into the dusk.
With the blood of their enemies in the glasses,
They feast happily.
The moon moves fast tonight,
Over the party of the dead.

Men walk through the crowds in bird masks,
Boasting of their adventures throughout nights alone.
The women laugh and converse with their lovers,
Lovers of the night,
Creatures of the night.

Silent music plays over the screams of the victims,
And the party guests stand very still.
The moon shines on their face.
Blood covers their black shoes,
Stains their black ties.
Blood drips from their teeth,
They lick their lips and kiss,
Pale skin contrasts the black hearts.

The aggresive sun rises slowly,
As Luna disappears under the earth.
And the men and women scatter and run,
To survive another day.
The club is empty and warm with drying blood.
It waits for it's family to return.

They stare at the sun with eyes as black as coal.
Everything is black in their world,
Except the pearl in the sky,
Which they worship dearly.

With their feet at the borderline of dawn,
They wait for freedom,
They wait for night.