Lyric

A crescent moon upon the silver sleeve

A freezing wind that grants no time to grieve

My fingers trace the lacquered wooden sheath

Unclenched desire, a quiet steel beneath

Fast footwork blending with the shadows deep

The final vigil that I swore to keep

No anger in my veins, no emotional cry

Just perfect numbers underneath the sky

Your heavy blade is slow, your shadow turns to rust

While my devotion turns your pride to dust

Refined and cold, the target is in sight

A fatal beauty dancing through the night

CUT THE THREAD! (Through the silver winter rain!)

BREAK THE SHADOW! (With a stroke of sacred pain!)

DIE IN GRACE! (As the fallen petals grow!)

CUT THE THREAD!

BREAK THE SHADOW!

DIE IN GRACE!

A flurry of sparks, a cinematic clash

A thousand lines erased in one cold flash

You think you have me cornered in the dark

But pressure only makes my courage sharp

The scent of ozone, the iron starts to sing

Behold the silent justice that I bring

The price of the oath is already paid

The final counter is ready to bloom

CUT THE THREAD! (The cold perfection of the strike!)

BREAK THE SHADOW! (No two souls are ever alike!)

DIE IN GRACE! (Turn the memory into ash!)

CUT THE THREAD!

BREAK THE SHADOW!

DIE IN GRACE!