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For most everyone aroundThis is a ghost townSend me to the bottom of the caveI'm not afraidOf a cold august dayRed hairs hangin from the branches of a dead treeRise from your bed, bansheeRise like the sunWhich is setting on the chosen oneSunset is a verb down in calico alleySunset is a verb down in calico alleySunset is a verb down in calico alleySkull and crossbones... hear the chant comin from the streetBuried under my feetListen for the moansOf the victims of an urban Davy JonesMore like Deborah Marie James, if we're namin namesPirate or witch, really doesn't matter a stitchShe's just here to ruin livesYou'll see her red hair before she arrivesAnd then you'll see her gownBut thats all you'll see when the sun goes downSunset is a verb down in calico alleySunset is a verb down in calico alleySunset is a verb down in calico alley From Letras Mania