Come to me… Come to me. The silent creatures Are watching From behind the trees. The gaze Is the swamp Staring at your back. The waning moon Is melting… Come to me! Dry branches Will gouge out your eyes. The twinkle far away Is wandering and attracting. Come to me… Step by step, Without a road – After him… Into slough – After him… The twinkle far away Is wandering and attracting. Daturas on marshes Doom you to death The twinkle is wandering, Leading into slough. Filmed by Frank Lampard