Midnight's bell rings, the air is [bad word] rolder
Sounds of sadness reaching me
Each night I hear their whispers
I feel their sorrow, their lost souls
All around me they stay
Their laments trapped here, all sounds, all tear

I can hear them, crying to me
I can see them, searching for help
I can feel them, their cold spectral hands
The whispering [bad word] is standing next to you

Some screams of [bad word] from the depths of darkness
I rise each day, each night,
Walking silently among you
Your breath turns cold, as you cover yourself
But even those things can't hear you
I'm not alone there, around you in this piece
You know it we are all your past errors

Hear my words, do what I tell you
See the death you gave birth
Feel the sorrow that you hide
I'm the whispering [bad word]  to be free kill yourself