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O, Lord of the Lost |
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Lead to the swamp |
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In half-light |
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Where our shadows move |
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Black water pools |
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And Spanish moss |
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This is when you feel us most |
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When the light slips away |
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And the old songs carry |
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In the wind |
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Bound by the great oak |
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Remains of home |
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We are the long-gone |
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Oh whispering ghosts |
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Days long ago |
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And silver-grey hair |
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This is when you feel us most |
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When the light slips away |
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And cicadas begin |
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To sing |
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You feel the eyes |
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The waiting eyes |
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Our shape takes root in half-light |
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You feel the eyes |
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The watching eyes |
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Blinking along the edge of darkness |
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This is when you feel us most |
|
When the light slips away |
|
And the old songs carry |
|
This is when you feel us most |
|
When the light slips away |
|
And the old songs carry |
|
In the wind |
