When quiet slips over the forest green,
and no signs of life remain to be seen.
When silence falls like predator on prey,
That's when the fog comes out to play.

Leaves and twigs no longer crackle and crunch,
and instead they attempt to stick and bunch.
And colors are robbed of their wide array,
When the fog comes out to play.

Daylight shines through weeping tendrils of mist,
and by cold, dead lips you feel you've been kissed.
And wayward travelers will lose their way,
When the fog comes out to play.

When things up ahead are not what they seem,
and the end of the road is just a dream.
When all that you feel you can do is pray,
That's when the fog comes out to play.