I walk this path for the end of line, I admire forest and it's scent of pine. As the feel of cold is creeping up on me I found a cabin with an open door. Hear a sound of steps on the floor. But there is no one for my eyes to see. There is glow in the fire place. Warm coal on the fire grate. And I feel the warmth spread inside. I hear the floor to creak again. I look but it must be my brain. From the window I can see weak morning light. I prepare myself. In weak light of down, For the coming day, Last day on Earth... Last day, for myself; Last day on Earth... And now I know who is moving in these corners. Little black shape with glowing eyes. I feel the wind like in dream I fall. Last rites are spoken, for this is where flesh ends. I prepare myself. In weak light of down, For the coming day, Last day on Earth... Last day, for myself; Last day on Earth... I prepare myself. In weak light of down, For the coming day, Last day on Earth... Last day, for myself; Last day on Earth... Last day on Earth...