Finger on his belt, she's wearing perfume and nothing else.
Sizing them up, pageantry in pastel.
Deep within the woods a couple miles from the club.
The Old Mare ravine, ghastly light does erupt.
Curse raised his bones, the lost boy came home.
Held within his clutches, the infernal stone.
Crashing through the doorway with a sinister hand.
The Earth it kept him warm but spit his body back to the land.
Wolves cry like children.
Let 'em howl, let 'em moan
The stone was too sour...
The damage is done.
Dirt upon his face.
Revenge was percolating on the brain.
For fifteen-odd years in the ground he had stayed.
Boys who sealed his tomb had grown, themselves, quite untamed.
The blood that was spilled, it must now be replaced.
Curse raised his bones, the lost boy came home.
Held within his clutches, the infernal stone.
Crashing through the doorway with a sinister hand.
The Earth it kept him warm but spit his body back to the land.
Wolves, they fight like children.
Let 'em howl, let 'em moan
The stone was too sour...
The damage is done.
credits
from Last Days of Magic,
released October 14, 2016
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