Green man

by Type O Negative

Spring won´t come, the need of strife
To struggle to be freed from hard ground
The evenings mists thad creep and crawl
Will drench me in dew and so drown

I´m the green man
The green man

Sol in prime sweet summertime
Cast shadows of doubt on my face
A midday sun, it´s causing hues
Refracting within the still lake

Autumn in her flaming dress
Of orange, brown, gold fallen leaves
My mistress of the frigid night
I worship, pray to on my knees

Winter´s breath of filthy snow
Befrosted paths to the unknown
Have my lips turned true purple?
Life is coming to an end
So says me,me wiccan friend
Nature coming full circle

I´m the green man
The green man


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