On the hill overlooking the lake
Where we used to swim
Stands a structure of concrete
Forbidding and grim
When we were children
We would never get close
Afraid of the shadows
Afraid of the ghosts
But I finally climbed up to see it
Long after you moved away
And I'm writing this report for my old comrade
In memory of our younger days
When you get closer
The cracks start to show
It's weathered and beaten
A crumbling shadow
And something the color of rust
Flows up the walls like a flood
Maybe it's ivy
Maybe it's blood
