THE WILD HUNT

There is a crow moon comin in well you keep looking out
It is the hollow month of march now sweeping in
Lets watch phenomenon's that rise out of the darkness now
Within the light she is my storming heroin
And old machine's abandoned by the ancient racists and
I hear them hummin down below and hollow earth
Oh hell I guess I know no while I will go under to
But just for now I let the spring and storm return

I left my heart to the wild hunt a-comin
I live until the call
And I plan to be forgotten when I'm gone
Yes I'll be leavin' in the fall