Lets go fetch the rifle now,
there's something in the yard.

The moon is clear,
the dog is on guard,
the windows rattle.

It is coming from the trees.

Chain the fence,
bolt the door,
secure the homestead.
That thing will never leave.

The dark is scratching the walls but how?
The culling of the herd is now.

How did you curse this place?
Strange ghosts of family past is what we used to believe.

There are strange lights up in the night sky,
screams come up the wooden floor,
claws gnawing the inner door,
floating 3 feet above the ground,
the reaper, his prey, has found.