Type O Negative - Green Man

Spring won't come, the need of strife
To struggle to be freed from hard ground

The evening mists that creep and crawl
Will drench me in the dew and so drown

I'm the green man
The green man

Sol in prime sweet summertime
Cast shadows of doubt on my face

A midday sun, its caustic hues
Refracting within the still lake

I'm the green man
The green man

Autumn in her flaming dress
Of orange, brown, gold fallen leaves

My mistress of the frigid night
I worship pray to on my knees

Winter's breath of filthy snow
Befrosted paths to the unknown
Have my lips turned blue purple

Life is coming to an end
So says me, me Wiccan friend
Nature coming full circle

Winter's breath of filthy snow
Befrosted paths to the unknown
Have my lips turned blue purple

Life is coming to an end
So says me, me Wiccan friend
Nature coming full circle

I'm the green man
The green man
I'm the green man
The green man

Written by:
Peter Thomas Steele

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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