She looks like a ghost
In the clothes of blood,
The thing she likes most
Is the burning heart.

She comes in your dreams,
But she won’t let you go.
She’s close now, it seems,
And she’s making you low.

People call her sweet love,
But you try to resist.
She has taken your half,
Try to fight her at least.

But you will soon surrender,
You will have to give up.
Her hands are very tender,
This is real sweet love…