Im the cobwebbed stairs, the ancient bones

Im the shadow rippling cobblestones,

Im the stagnant swamp, the black lagoon

Im the branches scratching at the moon

Im the funeral service, the unknown mourner

Im the demon cowering in the corner

Im the sextons spade, the new thrown clay

Im whats left when they walk away

Im the ebony coffin, satin lining

Pale thin lips in the back room dying

Pale thin lips in the back room dying

Im the walking dead, the fly by night

Im the last of the fading light

In the unbarred door, the open encasement

Im the stairs leading down to the basement

The four post bed, the let down hair

Im the cross that you forgot to wear

Im the highest voltage, the shining slab

The crack of midnight in the doctors lab

Im the night before, the morning after

Echoing of the barons laughter

Echoing of the barons laughter

Im Jonathan Harker, Im Lucys trance

Elegant counts hypnotic glance

Im the wooden mallet, the sharpened stake

Im the precautions you forgot to take

Im the mummys curse, the passing bell

Im the fortune they wouldnt tell

Im pyromania, Transylvania

Im out of breath, Im worse than death

Im the late night air, exhilarating

Im with you in the darkness, waiting