The Vacant Lot - Tad Morose

Underneath lie barely seen and rarely touched All things untold Stone upon

stone So foul, so cold A shadow of old

Into the night Driven by what none can see Scarcely bound but hardly free

A shadow of old A story untold A gathering rot The vacant lot

A stray dog send shivers down your spine The remnant wall stand ever the

same Hair of the dog won’t help you at all

The street’s all deserted We’ll swallow you whole

Our minds intermingle a raven so black A spiralling stairway keep calling

you back Tentacles, tentacles tighten their grip Downwards in circles the

deadliest trip

We mould you impassive all tainted and sore Abiding our master keep calling

you Tentacles, tentacles tighten their grip Downwards in circles the

deadliest trip