L.A. to Brooklyn, why you doin' all that talkin'? Think you got a soul but you're a Dead Man Walkin' Yo toast the host from coasts' we boast When we
L A to Brooklyn why you doin' all that talkin' Think you got a soul but you're a dead man walking Yo, toast the host from coasts' we boast When we meet
mental agony, tears Source of tears or any physical pain Light did not come from one source like the sun But God's glory illuminated everything So shadows
vacation with an axe Then I'd imagine that this dude was after me While layin' in my bed that night, afraid and wide awake I promise you, I saw a shadow
symbol remains Into the darkness Must pour the brains In the shadow of california Revolution by night grant me this future Kings of the shadow on the
to go back when But now I see the truth so clearly And I want it her back again She hosts the ghosts of people In the shadows all around Until the old
of time You thought you'd rule the world forever Long live the king but don't spare the loser now Now the host emerges and a shadow starts to fall Not
TV Host: "And now let's mean some of the gentleman responsible for the 'Western Sound', The Buffalo Springfield! There's a woman that you ought to know
How many shadows on the path of each man? how many shadows will be added? a host of voices that will suffocate the silence of solitude an explosion of
Harry Conklin] There is a place that no one goes about Or fears to conjure in the mind Sacred chants heard whispered in the dark Watch for your shadow
serenade to the dreariest soul. I'm alone, within the confines of my barren home bereaved, left behind, grieving for the one, my ashen bride. A host
a heavenly host Riding on Josef?s train He was talking to the engineer ringing the bell Riding on Josef?s train With a smile to the sky as the shadow
[Mr. Shadow (talking)] Oh yeah Mr. Shadow up in this bitch once again Introducing' my homeboy Young Siccness Chillin' in the studio with my man Vicious
past will be future When again yesterday to be made For me, hazy times fume all around Burning grass in a field of endless supplies Tall people casting shadows
I behold) black crystals gleaming... ensorcellment! I am enthralled by this nighted spell... For I know that the slumbering sorceries Of the Shadow-King
mystical artefact countless thousands of years old, a black-jewelled circlet believed once to have been borne upon the immortal brow of the legendary Shadow
and guilt Our will be done Thy kingdom burn On my knees, before this tormented flesh, in irreverence In communion with this parasitic host of virtuous
Hidden behind merciful shadows, beyond the cruel daylight, living to hunt and kill, we are the... damned children of the night. Dragging our immune existence