The Barghest O’ Whitby

I doubt I shall ever come back

Moving thin and wane, an old danger

A thorn am I with sunken back

I am the enemy of you, traitor

And the world cold, I'm still on track

Your heart so cruel - mine is greater

It is the sky that bleeds my name

And in its breath my heart's contained

I watched you fleeing from my ruin

A scent of blood is your undoing

Through oak that groan under the rain

Under my feet, the world arcane

In suffering I'm always right

Within the silver moon tonight

From my lips the word is sung

And in this voice thy will be done

A great show of fear

Fear that I am near

And very far is dawn

'Twas such a promising morn

Come, look back at me

I sense you on the breeze

The fall from your throne

This is all I need

Tell me what remains

A hunger within yourself?

So many miles before I sleep

Your truth is weak

Are those tiny rivers

Down your rosy cheek?

Laid out against the sky

In the corners of the night

Falling from my mouth

The words of punishment

I will make you see

Your traffic of misery

It is my sins that you deplore

Well, count them fair, for I have more

To my mouth I carry you

In crimson teeth, your breath I drew

I make you dust, as you were flesh

Honoured to see a performance in death

We have no time, no time at all

There's empty rooms and shadowing halls

Fevering thoughts all hollow and old

Shivering veins now running cold

When dawns were young and woodland green

And silvery moons as often seen

In Hawsker dark is where you came

[And tore the night asunder]

My master at your knife to blame

[And wove his eyes with thunder]

To Nor' east, just along the coast

[Your colleague of the scars]

Takes pen to quote the pirates ghost

[A lesson from those Tsars]

[Justice done with dark blood and scum]

I'm torn toward the North

[From Northern moors they know I'll come]

So Whitby is the source!

Where you would sit and wait for me

[I arrive at Saltwick Bay]

And so you shall taste my grief

[Drawing the cut, I'm away]

My form is bloody and it is true

It is the night I wear around me

From lies I grew a spit of untruth

I help the frail sky to its sleep

Nameless, I come and without end

Within the moor and without end