Lyrics

It’s getting cold, now the air is humming,
I hear the footsteps of the judgment coming,
They’re getting louder, as the leaves go filtering by.
The light is poor, but I can see their shadow,
They head my way across this moonlit meadow,
I know the purpose of those cold and cynical minds


It’s the fire and the fog, and the ghost upon the mire,
It’s the stillness of the night, and the vengeance they desire,
It’s the fire and the fog, and there’s a madness whispering by.


His shallow grave is but a mile from this place,
Born to the manor, I can still see his face,
I took his life, for he had sought to take mine.
If I am guilty, there can be no justice,
I’ve no defense, for they will not stand witness,
Such is the price, that a poor man pays for his crime.


It’s the fire and the fog, and the ghost upon the mire,
It’s the stillness of the night, and the vengeance they desire,
It’s the fire and the fog, and there’s a madness whispering by.


You could send me far away, and I could leave upon this day,
Yes, you could send me far away from here.


It’s the fire and the fog, and the ghost upon the mire,
It’s the stillness of the night, and the vengeance they desire,
It’s the fire and the fog, and there’s a madness whispering by