My lungs are burning; I can barely breathe.
My insides are churning; I can hardly see.
The sweat pours down into my eyes.
There's a razor clean gash running down my thigh.
Some kind of creature is after me,

It's following my blood trail through the powdered snow.
Its yellow eyes have not failed to track me with their glow.
Its nostrils spew out scalding steam.
Its greedy fang just boils and streams.
Some kind of creature is after me.


from THE BANKS OF THE OLD BLACK RIVER, released October 31, 2014


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James Wesley Nichols Greenville, South Carolina

All songs, voices, guitars, keyboards, drums, percussion, sequencing, tape and digital recording, artwork, design, packaging, and so on, by James Wesley Nichols, unless otherwise indicated.

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