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