Sleepy Hollow The Microphones

There's no lamp, no Sleepy Hollow
There's no pack of dogs to follow
There's no airflow, there's no inflation
There's no clue, no revelation

No sound of birds, there's no snowfall
There's no crashing waves, there's a seawall
There's no cheek cold from the weather
There's no woolly insulation

And there's a hole in the yard
There's a grave, there's sandy soil
Lowered bodies, lifting feeling
Furry hands, hasty grieving