The vultures stir the ground above,
the graves of our once beloved.
On Hallow's Eve, the flesh prevails
with all the truths of twisted tales.
As they roam free in dark of night
to satisfy their hungry appetite.
They have a thirst for blood, ya see,
they'll pick your bones beneath a tree.
They'll hang your head upon a limb,
rejoice in a dance for all their sin.
The winds will blow in gale speed force
when all the evil has taken its course.
They then will grow back all their skin
and seem whole like they once have been.
Now, the night you'll truly fear,
that only comes once a year.
They walk amongst you in the street,
as you dress up and knock for treats.
They plot and scheme on Halloween,
on how to lure you with a candy dream.
Once in their grasp, you'll gasp for sure,
rest assured it will be blood and gore.
As they start to pluck your nails,
they'll screech with excited wails.
They'll then start to pull your hair,
every strand until you're bare.
They'll then put you on a metal spit
and roast you slow, over a burning pit;
Until you're crisp for the final feast,
to serve unto the immortal beast.
A gift to him, to reclaim their soul,
the one the Devil himself has stole.
So before you go out this harrowing night,
remember...
it's children they want... just one bite.
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