| Song | Spirits of the Dead |
| Artist | Gothica |
| Album | Night Thoughts |
| Like a fast start is the sonorous wake, | |
| A voice made of numberless voices. | |
| I'm turning round, looking for you, | |
| But your sound springs from inside. | |
| You reality without essence, | |
| Eternal fire and icy pallor. | |
| Tell me where you are from, | |
| Thou obscure inhabitants of dark. | |
| Are you meloudious and bewitching | |
| Or terrifying and deceptive? |