Greet the nightfall

with opens arms while

the Devil howls in mirth.

.

Brambles do twist

through and admist

towers root in earth.

.

Shrouds of darkness

claw a sharp kiss

through these shaky hands.

.

Eyes blink amiss,

but not in this

desolate woodland.

.

or so I think.

Or so I think.

.

Echo red wails,

grisly and hale,

while this coat unfurls.

.

Creeping under

clouds asunder

'tween these bleakened worlds.

.

Late fireflies

light the night sky

twinking o're the soil

.

from high above.

This lonely grove

weeps of wolven toil,

.

or so I think.

Or so I think.

.

What you don't know…

causes all this fright.

.

I'm the thing…

that goes bump in the night.

.

The shadows racing

between the trees

fall beneath my feet.

.

The only sound

above the ground

is this heartless beat.

.

The stagnant air does

make rhythmic buzz-

ing across these lands.

.

There's no blood to lick

off fingertips

of these shaky hands.

.

or so I think.

Or so I think.

Or so I think.

Or so I think.

.

What you don't know…

causes all this fright.

.

I'm the thing…

that goes bump in the night.

.

What you don't know…

causes all this fright.

.

I'm the thing…

that goes bump in the night.