Watcher in the Pines

Something lives in the pines,

my dear, Something old and tall.

I hear it walking after dark,

I hear its distant call.

The branches creak like broken bones,

The owls won't sing at all.

And every night at half-past three

I hear it down the hall.

Something lives in the pines tonight,

Watching from the trees.

I lock the doors and hold my breath,

But it still knows me.

Something waits beyond the light,

Where shadows twist and wind chimes cry.

I close my eyes,

but every night, I know it's standing nearby.

The hunters say they've seen its eyes,

Two lanterns in the black.

And anyone who follows them Never seems to wander back.

The dogs won't cross the tree line now,

The horses bolt with fear.

The forest holds its breath at dusk Whenever it comes near.

Last winter in the falling snow,

I saw tracks around the house.

Too large for any beast I knew,

Too heavy, too silent somehow.

They circled every windowpane,

Then vanished with the dawn.

But carved into the frozen porch Was the shape of a twisted

horn.

Now every night I hear it breathe Beyond the bedroom wall.

Not loud enough to wake the dead,

But enough to make me stall.

And sometimes through the curtains thin,

I see a shape between the trees.

Too tall to be a man at all,

Too patient to ever leave.

Something lives in the pines tonight,

Watching from the trees.

I lock the doors and hold my breath,

But it still knows me.

Something waits beyond the light,

Where shadows twist and wind chimes cry.

And if one night I disappear,

Don't come looking after me.

Something lives in the pines,

my dear...

And I think it knows my name. (shhhhh)