The night she went looking, there was blood, ice, and ashes.
A shivering ember that cut up the dark.
She had flint in her fingures, eyes sparking with iron, and splinters of other cold nights in her heart.
Just a little white rose, A glint in the snow, Ice in the bone, and she said I'll be right behind you, in the shards of the mirror.
I'll be there.
I'll be there.
Just over your shoulder.
You wont see me coming.
I'll be there.
I'll be there.
Well she sought him in the shadows, and in wispers and ditches.
She could still taste the bolt of his breath on the wind.
Throug barbed wire and bracken, and broken illusions.
She could still taste the salt in the cracks of her skin.
Just a little black rose, a thorn in the snow, ash in her veins, and she said I'll be right behind you, in the shards of the mirror.
I'll be there.
I'll be there.
I'll follow, I'll find you.
When you wont see me coming.
I'll be there.
When she finally found him asleep in the garden, she flickered just once and then vanished all down.
She clutched all of her promise, hope in her pocket struck steel upon stone and just let it all out.
Just a little red rose, a stain on the snow, Blood on her hands, and she said.
I'll be right behind you.
In the shards of the mirror.
I'll be there.
I'll be there.
I'll follow, I'll find you.
You wont see me coming.
I'll be there.
So let it all out.