The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

One of my songs, written under the name my mother gave me, Graeme Young.







Full Moon hangs over deep dark woodlands

Down dreary roads she strides.

Long dark ringlets, pale sad phantom

In a prim school blazer and tie.

Partician face set against the winter night

And the cruel wind on the rise.

Passing lonely through the churchyard

Masscara streams from her cold green eyes.



Morrigan.

Who do you talk to while you're walking quite alone?

I hear your voice and see your black lips moving.



Morrigan.

Do you have the faintest clue just where you're going?

You seem to have too much to think about.



Black lipstick glistening in pale moonlight

On her angelic face of white.

Her cold gaze yielding meagre insight

To what transpires behind her eyes.

Underneath her stiff white collar

A black tatooed pentagram.

She wanders moonlit roads forlorn

Where long ago she ceased to give a damn.



Morrigan.

Who do you talk to while you're walking quite alone?

I hear your voice and see your black lips moving.



Morrigan.

Do you have the faintest clue just where you're going?

You seem to have too much to think about.



Middle 8



Morrigan.

Who do you talk to while you're walking quite alone?

I hear your voice and see your black lips moving.



Morrigan.

Do you have the faintest clue just where you're going?

You seem to have too much to think about.