By The Crossroads -

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 pass 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