Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand

Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize your neighborhood

And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down

Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpse's shell

The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand years

And grisly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom

And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver

For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the thriller*


© Michael Jackson