Lion's Den

Night descended like a blanket, on the house Where I miss you like a limb. I close the curtains, shun the working and I put your record on. I put your record on. I, the lonely tax collector, never had Such a feeling before you came. You descended, I amended And I need it like a hole in the head. I need it like a hole in the head. [Repeat: x2] You took me to the lion's den And waited for the beast to begin. --- Lion's Den - Dry the River