Carried And Stayed.

The tombstones withered,
The yew trees whistled,
And songs of the cemetery carried and stayed.
Stayed in the mortuary,
And wept a madrigal,
Where the Coffins of Dead had carried and stayed.

You might think of it crazy,
Leniate towards a maybe,
That just maybe I was sane enough to be still and know...
Know of the stories,
Of the Black Shaded Lady,
And realize that she had me where I had wanted to go.

Well, I was two bits of stupid,
The least bit unaware,
Stupid enough to go and sit right over her grave.
I was sneezing and coughing,
On the dusts of her coffin,
As she came in the morgue, sending her ghostly wave.

You might think of it crazy,
Leaning back towards a maybe,
That maybe I had been vain enough to sit there and know...
Shaking hands with that lady,
That Black Shaded Lady,
To find out she was the one who had let the tale grow.