Old Ghosts Testo

Old Ghosts
Hair stands high on the cat�s back like a ridge of threatening hills
Sheepdogs howl, make tracks and growl, their tails hanging low
And young children falter in their games at the altar of life�s hide and seek
Between tall pillars, where Sunday-night killers, in grey raincoats, peek
I�ll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play
Misty colors unfold a backcloth cold, fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak and soundless glide, a-drifting
On eddies whirled in beech leaves furled, brown-gold they fly
In the warm mesh of sunlight, sifting now from a cloudless sky
I�ll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play
Yes, I�ll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play