Lyrics by Bernd Harmsen she crawls through a humid dungeon that no one but her can see in a dark alcove someone is hiding she notes that she has scraped her knee a giant man who's got a truncheon is grinning with malicious glee the ceiling's low, the walls are cracking hands reach out to grab at her unknown forces are attacking she must stay calm, she must not stir she's got no help, she's got no backing she's weeping and her sight is blurred she can still scent his smell like he was in the room the close atmosphere seems to be spelling doom her nightmare feels real her life's an ordeal her nightmare feels real her face is smeared with snot and spittle and her skirt is soiled and torn she feels helpless, frail, and brittle she deserves his rage and scorn it's been like this when she was little since the day that she was born she can still scent his smell like he was in the room the close atmosphere seems to be spelling doom her nightmare feels real her life's an ordeal her nightmare feels real she's got this hazy notion that there may be an escape she's got a knife and she'll use it better now than too late her nightmare feels real her life's an ordeal her nightmare feels real
