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