Lyrics

When midnight drips and winds grow cold,
And mothers hush the tales they’re told,
He stirs beneath the crooked tree—
The Whisper Man comes silently.

No feet he moves, no breath he takes,
He slides like frost across the lakes.
He smells the fear, he hears the lies,
And takes the ones with open eyes.

He knocks with nails of ashen bone,
On windowpanes and roofs of stone.
He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t cry,
He only points, and then you die.

They say he wears a shadow’s face,
And leaves behind not even a trace.
So if you hear him at your door,
Don’t get up. Don’t cross the floor.

Just close your eyes and still your breath,
And pray you dream of not his death.
For if you meet his hollow gaze—
You’ll walk with him the end of days.