The Macabray - The Speed of Sound in Seawater

I count ten in the dusk sun

On the wet grass

Facing the woods

And I can’t find

Where you have gone

And a cold trail

Is a sign where you’ve run

And I said, «Ready or not, here I come.»

Ready or not, here I come

Trippin' on my laces

I am afraid that I’ve lost my place

At the end of the neighborhood

Edge of the world

This was a mistake

With night clear upon us

I am shone fear

In the autumn of my seventh year

An alarming lapse of sound

I see my breath

Just like in the stories

Don’t want you to turn around

I don’t wanna bask in your ghastly glory anymore