TRANSYLVANIAN LOVE STORY

From deep down south death is came
carries a black coffin on his back
searches for blood is his name
jealous of life shall drink his lack

Across a graveyard of green swirling mist at night
over bitter frosted river rock snow
is persecuted by our sun if he moves in light
man undead but does not know

Repetitious hell of diurnal occupation done
people tired and their limbs go to sleep
then from careful hiding ghosts begun
not seen in mirrors he can creep

Taut white skin the village pet
daughter of joy lost in easy dream
called his bride is what she shall get
wound sweet twin red stream