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The Blue Moon After Next
The Narcissist Cookbook
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When the days get shorter
And the sky begins to pale
When the winds are howling
Down the highwall cobbled lane
I write my name in the sycamore leaves
And sign it with a kiss
I'm coming come soon
The blue moon after next
When the night is hollow
And shadows crowd the lungs
When the doors are bolted
And the curtains are all drawn
You hear my voice in the creaking floorboards
And hold your troubled hand
I'm coming home soon
The blue moon after next
I am the thing that stands outside your bedroom door
And whispers through the keyhole
The hand that knows
The face you pretend you can't see outside the upstairs window
If I am not welcome, you can tell me
I'll dissapear like mist
I'm coming home soon
I'm coming home soon
The blue moon after next