And his heart became the hunter
Waiting alone for the witching hour
Feeling the shock and the surge of power
She makes her way to the door forbidden
Tomorrow she'll say that she did not really go there
The picture of the mother
Together they wait for the witching hour
Felling the heat and the push of power
Left behind he's the uninvited
Maybe the door will open if he
The hand that rocks the cradle in the morning
Could be lurking round the corner with a gun
Before you take the time to say I'm sorry
Remember where she's been
And all the misery she's done
Waiting for the witching hour
Needing the shock and the surge of power
They make their way down to the door forbidden
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