The wind is blowing grim Inside this dismal churchyard Its frozen breath creeps through the trees No signs of life around No funeral rites from years It seems the world forgot about here And I'm walking down this path Among these crumbling stones So old vestiges of a senseless vanity The Gaze of The Owl But while I observe all this A hint of something evil Comes from the darkness thrilling me A sudden hoot alerts me From the branch of a decayed tree I know, now I've gone too far And its curse is over me The Gaze of The Owl