The woods just keep getting darker,
As I am ever so starker than the invincible Mr. Lake,
And I'll the climb to the top of the branches,
So the moon can shine a little light,
On what is left of my life.

Be concerned,
I might have crossed the line,
I will be disappointing to you.

Get myself together,
Twist the vines as I make my way down,
Back to the wood's underbrush,
And the demons make the ground rumble.

Be concerned,
They will be here for me,
My soul will be theirs.