There’s Talk Of Strange Folk Abroad – Texas In July
By
The hooded scoundrels await their death We are of those chosen few They bare the marks of the sin They’re nothing like us but they try to destroy our trust
Their books and chants will harm none For we will stand strong, in the pit of the night
For the arbolist is growing weak, and the servants die off
The time has come when there’s no one left to hold your hand
Stand your ground There is talk of strange folk aboard