The Witching Hour, Pt. II

Twelve miles into the mountains
A house with a neighbor-less wooded lot
All the animals in hibernation
No sound but the wind and the ghosts that haunt

Here in this place
Is a man of eighteen
Out to prove god exists
Through demonic activity

He turns off all the lights
And braces for the late nights
Of turning crosses upside down
Just to talk to the darkest spawn of hell

His hands shiver and swell
As he sees the door across the hall
Open and close itself

It started with the open doors, the open doors
Voices that I've never heard before, never heard before

Long nights hearing footsteps
Voices calling out his name
Cups flying off the table
The demons are here
And he is to blame

If you pray
For the demons to flee
The place that they stay
Then they'll come back
With seven more than with which they came

Tranquility for two days
Before he called out their names
And they came back
Cutting arms and pulling shades
He filmed them through the night
Saying his name
Saying down with your king

Candles that light themselves
Blood on the door frame

I'm here all alone
But it feels like I'm amongst a group of people
That want me dead
A warrant over my head

I got the proof I wanted
I got the proof I needed
I got the proof I wanted

They still watch me in my sleep
They still watch me sleep

They still watch me in my sleep
They still watch me sleep

I got the proof I wanted
They still watch me in my sleep
I got the proof I wanted
They still watch me sleep
I got the proof I wanted