She's waiting by the crossroads
Where the locust sing
Waiting for the black hand
To tune her violin string
Tune it down low
She waits for the hand of the shadows
To tune it down low
She sits down and lights up a candle
Lights a stick of her favourite incense
Pulls out a small piece of paper
Burns the edge (for effect)
Then begins writing
The case with her violin lay at her side
In dust like acoffin
A stranger who's died
She looks to the skyline
No one in sight
But that howl in the distance says
She's not alone here tonight
She's waiting by the crossroads
Where the locust sing
Waiting for the black hand
To kiss his ring
She heard that if she'd wait there on a moonless night
She could make a bagain 'neath the starlight
Time it down low
She waits for the hand of the shadows
To tune it down low
She slips her pan back to her pocket
Folds up her secret and thinks for a while
Holds the edge right to the candle
Watches it burn all the way to her fingers
Hour after hour she waited alone
Haunted by feelings of dread for the dawn
That howl in the distance has faded away
But the song of the locust continues to play
The candle is failing
The incense is gone
Thinking that maybe she's waited too long
Time moved so slowly, to pa** it away
She took out her violin and started to play
Out of the quiet, stunned and amazed
By the elegant grace of each note that she phrased
It rose and it fell and it danced and it whirled
The strings 'neath her fingers about to unfurl
Her heart filled with laughter
Her eyes filled with tears
This mantra, symphony nobody, nobody
Will ever hear