Im the cobwebbed stairs, the ancient bones
Im the shadow rippling cobblestones,
Im the stagnant swamp, the black lagoon
Im the branches scratching at the moon
Im the funeral service, the unknown mourner
Im the demon cowering in the corner
Im the sextons spade, the new thrown clay
Im whats left when they walk away
Im the ebony coffin, satin lining
Pale thin lips in the back room dying
Pale thin lips in the back room dying
Im the walking dead, the fly by night
Im the last of the fading light
In the unbarred door, the open encasement
Im the stairs leading down to the basement
The four post bed, the let down hair
Im the cross that you forgot to wear
Im the highest voltage, the shining slab
The crack of midnight in the doctors lab
Im the night before, the morning after
Echoing of the barons laughter
Echoing of the barons laughter
Im Jonathan Harker, Im Lucys trance
Elegant counts hypnotic glance
Im the wooden mallet, the sharpened stake
Im the precautions you forgot to take
Im the mummys curse, the passing bell
Im the fortune they wouldnt tell
Im pyromania, Transylvania
Im out of breath, Im worse than death
Im the late night air, exhilarating
Im with you in the darkness, waiting
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