theres a chill upon the air and days are down and dire and all our doubt grows wings and our wickedness conspires no on will sleep soundly in this tangled web of spite were in for a long night the relentless beat of time will take its heavy handed toll until the hurt runs through your veins from pole to icy pole and the ones you love so well have all been lost from sight into the long night until the hand no longer holds fast the man made blade and blood for blood our debt in hollow ground is laid well greet each other blindly in the absence of all light afraid of the long night