Michael Alø - Southern Gothic Tales Lyrics

In the deep, dark woods where the moss hangs low
There's a tale of woe that the old folks know
Of a preacher's son with a heart of stone
Who buried his sins where the wild vines grow

Oh, the Southern Gothic tales, where the blood runs cold
In the night, the whispers of the dead unfold
Where the shadows dance and the secrets wail
In the heart of the South, where the wicked prevail

A widow's curse on a stormy night
She laid her love down in the cold moonlight
But the devil came with a crooked grin
And claimed her soul for a life of sin

Oh, the Southern Gothic tales, where the blood runs cold
In the night, the whispers of the dead unfold
Where the shadows dance and the secrets wail
In the heart of the South, where the wicked prevail

A widow's curse on a stormy night
She laid her love down in the cold moonlight
But the devil came with a crooked grin
And claimed her soul for a life of sin

Oh, the Southern Gothic tales, where the blood runs cold
In the night, the whispers of the dead unfold
Where the shadows dance and the secrets wail
In the heart of the South, where the wicked prevail

There's a mansion high on the hilltop bare
Where the ghost of a child still lingers there
Her laughter echoes through the halls at night
A haunting sound in the pale moonlight

So heed the tales from the Southern grave
Of love betrayed and souls enslaved
For in the South, where the stories weave
There's no escape from the webs they leave

Wicked prevail