The Kind of Darkness that frightens white men
It was the kind of darkness that frightens white men
When the men come into their own
And the real thing
Is about to come to fruit
As it shades out the weather prophets
And snows on the ether
They shall know it is for the ball
And chain
Not the hare and lemming
We sink to the floor and encircle
Our gloom
And wonder what is it that
Walks in the room
But the ghost of Evermore