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Feels like there's someone playing possum in the garden again
The leaves are trembling but there's no sign of airflow or rain
Feels likes there's someone who keeps hiding whenever we're near
Like a silhouette in the shade of the old tree

At night somebody's moving things about without care
One day the pathway's over here, the next over there
Some nights we stay up just to see if it's someone we know
And there like a ghost in the dark stands the old tree

You feel like you've slipped through a crack in the ground
Bones and skulls are dragging you down
Through stones and roots to petrified layers
Where cold and damp won't calm the fear

Sounds like somebody's spreading rumours in the garden again
The leaves are whispering about things never staying the same
Sounds like there's someone who keeps trying to tempt us away
As we climb through the branches up to the sky
On past the leaves and the flickering eyes
Up where the sunshine burns through the clouds
And there on the farthest bough: the fruit of the old tree

credits

from The First of the Bohicans, released May 1, 2010
Written, arranged and played by THE SPECTRAL PRiDE.
Recorded, mixed and mastered by The Knobster at the Bollockbrain Bunker.
Produced by Mr Reindeer.

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THE SPECTRAL PRiDE Hornsea

A recording venture launched in the spring of 2004 to enable four friends to meet and indulge in a common favourite pastime: the laying down of sounds while making one another laugh.

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