Locked up in a closet
Among the tore up room
We're playing 7 minutes in heaven
We hug and embrace
As well as kiss until we're out of breath
Pledging ourselves to each other
Devoting ourselves to our love
Even if it means certain death
Somewhere in the halls
Pyramid Head has his job
Dragging that buster sword with him
We grate our teeth as the sword bangs, clatters, and scrapes its way across and along the ground
We'll leave Pyramid Head to his own ways and devices
We continue to pick up where we left off
And we continue to make love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem