For thousand's of year's I've gone unseen ...
Only God ... Know's where I've been ....
Living in the dark ... only company the moon ...
Those I've met ... have met their doom...
Some call me the Count ... and do compare...
Me with the werewolf ... just out of it's lair ....
I am not evil ... even though I thirst ....
For the blood of the innocent ... that I lure ..
Those old day's of foolish folk lore ...
They speak of me and the throats I tore ...
T'was not for me to listen to their crie's ...
As I drank their blood while they died ...
Do you think of this as old folk lore ...
Perhap's a fable .... the throat's I tore ...
Perhap's you are right and I only exist ....
In your mind and the night ...
And the evening Mist .
