Nightborn

I’m called especially unclean

I drain unusual protein

I need my private crime

From time to time

I’m not a hero, not a saint

I’m going out of restraints

My lips are blood and wine

But are they mine?

What’s wrong with that

Twilit silence?

What crime is that

I’m hopeless nightborn?

I’ve got no friend

I’ve no alliance

The dark’s ahead

The day is dead

What’s wrong with that?

I have a weird kind of lust

Within the cities in the dust

I find a secret lane

There I remain

And in a hidden piece of dusk

We meet again, we do a task

Now we’re forever chained

Inside our veins