The metaphysical fog
That separates our worlds
Is thinning to allow passage
To the dead from the formless void
On the eve of Samhain
On all hallows' eve
Disguise yourself as a corpse
To ward off the harmful dead
Evil begets evil on the sabbath of the undead
Dead leaves will not warn you
Of a ghostly specter looming near
Their cold fire stare will burn through you
Unless your filled with morbid curiosity
On the eve of Samhain
On all hallows' eve
Horror is the only means
To keep the wraiths at bay

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