And I was gripped by that deadly phantomI followed him through hard junglesAs he stalked through the back lotsStrang
ling through the night shadesThe thief of lifeMoved onwards and outwards to loveIn a one stop only motelA storm bangs on
the cheapest roomThe phantom slips in to spill bloodEven on the sweetest honeymoonThe killer of loveCaught the last late N
iagara busBy chance or escaping from miseryBy suddeness or in answer to painSmoking in the dark cinemaYou could see the ba
d go down againAnd the clouds are high in Spanish mountainsAnd the fjord roars through the night full of rain.The killer's
blood flowsBut he loads his gun againMake a grown man cry like a girlTo see the guns dying at sunsetIn vain lovers claim
that they never have met.