(A Folk Song or Ballad)
The ocean breathes a sigh so deep, While Kingsmouth Harbor lies asleep. But don't you walk the docks alone, Or listen for the breaker's moan.
The fog comes crawlin' from the sea, It ain't just mist and mystery. It's got a hunger, got a hold, It takes the young and leaves the old.
It took ol' Jed, it took his boat, Left nothin' but his worn-out coat. They say you hear him on the breeze, A-whisperin' through the wicked trees.
The fog, it smells of salt and death, It steals the warmth and steals your breath. So lock your doors and say a prayer, When Fogwood's breath is on the air.
No comments:
Post a Comment