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The ghost of Old Nick

from The Great Unknown by Jon-Olov Woxlin

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lyrics

Black faces underneath the sun
Vague traces of the first-born son
Is it he up there on mount Sion,
Or is it just a mirage?

Lambs are being slaughtered, one by one
Blood’s covering the doors of every home
The myth is young, but, oh, so strong;
It may or may not be a farce

The ghost of Old Nick is nearing
People are sick and fearing
For their own lives. Death is throwing his dice
You don’t need to look twice

Diabolic symbols in the sand
Crosses upside down, mocking the damned
No one really dares to take a stand
There’s three breezes blowing down the road

Down the creek of Mountain Lake Town
The fiddler’s playing his luring sounds
All who hear him ends up being drowned
He must pay the debt he owes

The ghost of Old Nick…

The clock has stopped at three A.M.
In every home all over Helsingland
Down the street, the marching band
Is playing in a triple meter

From Mountain Lake to Jersusalem
A broken person, he did run
Crying out that he’d been summed
By the voice of Saint Peter

The ghost of Old Nick…

Bible verses are being read
Incoherent prayers are being said
Unto one another lies are being fed
Among the sheeple

The dawn is cracking one last time
Thugs are committing their last crime
Another drop of the holy wine
Is wasted in the temple.

The ghost of Old Nick…

credits

from The Great Unknown, released January 1, 2021

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Jon-Olov Woxlin Gothenburg, Sweden

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