Walking in the shadows,
Deeper than the nights sky.
Slipping skillfullly in and out,
of the gaze of a human eye.

Breathing the same air in the lungs of another,
but having not a heart or the warmth to their skin.
They drink the soul of living beings,
And yet they blink not a eyelid at their crimes.

Ah, the life of a nosferatu, the living dead.
How easy it seems.

Odd coloured eyes and bloodred smiles,
It's strange how normal they seem all the while,
Their white fangs shining in the darkness,
Pale skin as cold as snow,
Only the blood of a human makes them glow.

Awake day and night,
Surviving forever through a less then normal fight.
Animals fear them, but all they want is love.
Isn't keeping a secret enough?

Ah, the life of a nosferatu, the living dead.
How lonley it can be.