English lyric: 1983 in a small alley December, sunny and cloudless Twilight's Chapter Seven The typewriter continues to push towards That next line that is close to the truth The smoke from the Heath pipe Floats towards the withered trees Silently complaining to me while crying The circular square at the side of Baker Street On the arm of the armoured rider The badge of iris Slightly light No people, cars or noise A late night visit Evil Under the moonlight of Victoria A bloody opening The disappearing pistol The charred cane The melting wax figure Who was not at the scene? The jewellery box The mark of the fake image Contradiction to The dead end he laid The evidence is perfectly buried Declared from that mouth That makes fun of the Scotland Yard If evil Was a gorgeously cruel chapter (Such justice Is the deeply helpless regret) Its ending I will Personally write it (Then I light up The glimmer in the ashes) The morning light The wind dries the last row of sadness (Such raindrops Will wash the dark tall wall The black ink Dyes serene (The lights are shut off when everyone leaves The red curtain comes down) The truth can only pierce towards The soil without footprints The towering fine flower fragrance The deliberately eye-catching clothing Everyone wears a mask and lies for different reasons Motives only have one kind of name and it is called desire Across the swamp of humanity Who can really not get defiled? We can Forget Forgive But we must know the truth The iron bed that's been moved That last piece of the puzzle is finally put together I hear footsteps I anticipated getting followed by soft leather shoes He pushes the door open; the night breeze dazzles the kerosene light For a moment The typewriter stops at the name of the murderer, I turn around The night sky of Westminster Abbey Begins to boil Opening on the chest A beautiful death I taste this last mouthful of sweet truth Smiling, thinking back that justice is only quietly served The stringed instrument is on the Thames If evil Was a gorgeously cruel chapter (Such justice Is the deeply helpless regret) Its ending I will Personally write it (The typewriter stops at the name of the murderer, I turn around) (The night sky of Westminister Abbey Begins to boil) The black ink Dyes serene If evil Was a gorgeously cruel chapter Its ending I will Personally write it The morning light The wind dries the last row of sadness The black ink Dyes serene