It is a lonely game, the quest for blood,
but still, a body's got the right to dream,
and I'd not give it up for all the world.
The moon has leeched the darkness from the night.
I stinad in shadows, staring at her stone;
Understand, my lover. . .O, undead my love?

I dreamt you while I slept today and love
meant more than than life---meant more than blood!
The sunlight sought me, deep beneath my stone,
until I woke as vapour into night,
and sunset forced me out into the world.

For many centuries I've walked the world,
dispensing something that resembled love---
a stolen kiss, then back into the night,
contented by the life and by the blood.
And come the morning I was just a dream,
cold body chilling underneath a stone.

I said I would not hurt you. Am I stone
to leave you prey to time and the to the world?
I offered you a truth beyond your dreams
while all you had to offer was your love.
I told you not to worry, and that blood
tastes sweeter on the wing and late at night.

Sometimes my lovers rise to walk the night. . .
Sometime they lie, a corpse beneath a stone,
and never know the joys of bed and blood,
of walking through the shadows of the world;
insteady they rot to maggots. O my love,
they whispered you had risen, in my dream.

I've waited by your stone for half the night,
but you won't leave your dream to hunt for blood.
Goodnight, my love. I offered you the world.