Letras:Silence The Epilogue. Bloodstain Pattern Analysis. The Knife Configuration And Other Conspiracies.

Prostitute candlelit evenings perfumed scent of money. Lipstick, bloodstains, and champagne fade to permanent white. And so they died and no one could be found. You have become a memory. And so they died and no one could be found. And no one could be found to bury the dead for money, or for pleasure. I think I'll take this to the grave, It is too easy to remember the risks involved. And for these risks, I will never give up. I am not the one who is dead, you are can't your read your eyes