"I heard it on the morning fog / With haunting grace / Exquisite terror / All the Others were afraid, but I became enthralled
And over the cornfields came its song / He walked the path / I saw him there / Breathing deep the misty air, of the mourning fog
He walked the path we walked as children / When the sun was new / Before the farm was lost to darkness / And down we fell, as up we grew
We used to tell the stories then / And all forgot except for me / Memories of a forgotten childhood / Lost in mourning fog
But I remember, still Remember / The songs we sang to scare each other / And all the others were afraid / But I became enthralled
I heard it on the morning fog / With haunting grace exquisite terror / And for a while I linger there / To spin a memory from its song.."