The cold moon glows as the clock strikes midnight The putrid miasma seeps out of the ground The landscape is bathed in an eerie moonlight Revealing to us the strangest of terrors Inside the mansion the doors are unlocked Yet some of the guests can never leave The candlelight flickers as if to a lonely tune The church is empty yet a choir sings Terrified voices whisper from inside the walls Curtains rustle even though there is no wind Voices of children echo through the old house As shadows move in the deserted hallway Envious of our lives and human shells The beyond opens and foul spirits rise It is time Come, spirits...