Constance Willow

On the other side of the rope
This is the right time, on the right side
One of these nights when lights are long gone
From burning.

No flame what so ever, her mind already passed
Sorrow, you'll know her now when she's dead
Constance Willow.

Look at one of her paintings; green and flowered
Leave no impression of the woman smiling beside
Many days and nights saw the hell she caused to herself
The pain.

"At first I thought the blood once released would heal me
Like addiction repeating the same procedures
Medicating her illness since she was fragile and little
Noone considered her alive or even breathing the same air".

Constance willow she passed away
Drowned in a lake of sorrow before she drowned herself
In a lake by the forest
Now it's haunted.

At first I thought the blood once released would heal me
Like addiction repeating the same procedures.

Envenomed by the herbs she suffer even more
Gaining the final courage to commit her deeds
In life she molested strangers she found.

As a child her father made her do the most terrible things
And so she became familiar with torture and pain.

Customized a technique of her own, but she later called it medicine
Born a bastard in a family of four, she was the outcast - condemned to wander.

Little did they know of her faith when they left her cradle in the night
By the clearing called devils wrath, somewhere deep in the forest where one doesn't wander
That night's spirit gathered - Constance Willow
In death and life with her destiny sealed, she grew up not knowing why she did what she did
But when she found out that is when she let life go, unfortunately to evil.

Constance willow she passed away
Drowned in sorrow she drowned herself
In a lake by the forest
Now haunted.

At first I thought the blood once released would heal me
Like addiction repeating the same procedures.