There are phantoms, in the shadows, There is darkness, in my soul There are reasons for the spectres Hiding everywhere I go, There is carnage and confusion, Hand in hand with disarray Followed closely by deception, Disillusion and dismay. I cry cold tears, and hope the years, are good to you. There are shades at every corner, Wide eyed and full of hate Distorted visions of resentment, And a face behind each grate, There is worry and concernment, And a sound of falling tears, There is no more compassion, Just the sum of all our fears. I cry cold tears, and hope the years, are good to you. We constantly look behind us, No sure what we expect to see, But the feeling just grows stronger, And the night won