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We hold the dark of sighs in howling creatures sweet as young;
the hours never turn for those who ride the raving backs of bats and brooms.
Forever’s haunted dress unfolds; whatever is severed from
the shadow of the storm we will claim as ours to Love.
For you that holds the midnight, without a grave or home,
be steadfast we will come to take you in the fold as one.
The pumpkin moon is still coming for the burning heart still slaves;
never let them snuff you out, so beautiful and brave.
The harvest moon is still coming to reap the heart that stays true;
never is a poison kiss as beautiful as you.
Hold to your blooms and sweep up the roofs;
the stars will come raining down.
Old willow, dance with me.
Some day you know, the blues of the black sky,
will dry its tears and wipe us all away.
The pumpkin moon is still coming, for the truest heart still yearns
I’ll never let them snuff you out so beautiful you burn