When the Light Grows Thin

The daylight's bleeding out again. Like a candle gasping in the wind.

The saints all hide, the bells don't ring. And I can

feel the shadows sing when the light grows thin. That's when I

let the dark come in. While others pray and bar their doors.

I waltz right through their creaking floors. Oh, I whisper lies

in velvet tones. Build my throne on dust and bones. They call it

sin, I call it art. A little poison dressed in charm

and heart. Oh, when the light grows thin. That's when my