The Old Man from the Barrow Came to sing for me last night. He stood outside my window When the moon was full and bright. His face was hard as diamond; His eyes were cold as ice. His voice was like a bond That gripped me in a vise. And he sang to me-- Of the stars overhead, Of his home underground. And he'd come to be wed, Though I heard not a sound As he sang to me. He trod upon the crystals Of the newly forming frost. With each step I felt a thrill And I knew I was lost. Bathed within the moonlight, His coat of verdigris. I knew I could not fight For he had come for me. The Old Man from the Barrow Will return again tonight. As the icy wind does blow, We'll perform the ancient rite; For what's bred within the bone Is revealed in the flesh. Had my ancestors known Or could this be their wish?