Spook
Whuthering Heights For SaleThere's a face in the mist in the cold dark night
And the fluttering of tattered pieces of a soul in the wind
And the sound of little piano keys playing in the mind
And a crescent dagger shinning from under a dark shroud
But it's just the moon smiling underneath a cloud
There's a howl in the air like insane spirits rushing off a cliff
Like a swift black cart drawn by four nightmares
Or a sudden speeding freight train shrieking ablaze
Where are you my one and only dearest true love
Where are you hiding like a meek and gentle little dove
Are you still out there singing dancing crying in the rain
Running without your shoes somewhere on the moors
There's sweet Catherine Earnshaw singing her heathen song
