Hear the dead footsteps echo on the cobblestone;
windows are darkened and curtains pulled tight.
Sounds from the alley will not interrupt him,
holding the blinder under arm gripped tight.

Back at the farmhouse, something is growing,
feeding on symbols and ugly words.
Under the floorboards are the bones of mother,
rose cross beside her and white hair still curled.

Scratches on the signposts by the old tower—
yellow-eyed babies in nursery rooms—
open the blinder, carress the cold leather,
wait for the signal, and mark the new moon.

Elder Watcher of our town—
crimson village burnt to the ground.

Schoolyards are empty, the field scorched and barren;
even the river lies quiet and dark.
Something is waiting, silently dreaming
words to be whispered and flames to be sparked.

Elder Watcher of our town—
crimson village burnt to the ground.


Lyrics submitted by Anomalocaris

Crimson Village song meanings
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