It's october, the time for thrills
the time for kills, the time for chills.
the spooky skeleton rise from thine grave
to steal your bones, to make you pray.
mercy you begged for, none be granted,
stripped of your royal skin, now a slave.
Whom must I obey? you wondered,
the headless knight, or the pumpkin Queen?
The Skeleron King, or the Devil within?
it doesn't matter, it's a time for fun,
even in death, it'll all be fine.
Punsih all those who doth not obey,
Trick them all, and heed my call.
Treat is a myth, it doth not exist
even if candy they give, you trick them, insist.
Halloween is a time of horror,
being merciful is certainly not the answer.
go out in the night, do not be scared,
the darkness IS your silk protection.
grab a pumkin, the screaming latern,
by the end of the night it'll be filled with skeletons.
But speak no more of the spooky world,
and gaze into the life of the livings.
instead of spooky they made it joyful,
plenty'o candy is what they think for.
theres no skeleton, no headless knight,
none of the pumpkins are even alive.
to them, we are corpse;
to us, we are the living.
and only on the 31st
can our spooky hunger thirst for hunting.
After the 31st is the 1st,
and then it's time to rest.
lay down back in the ground, a corpse,
filled with sorrow, the living remorse.
But that is fine, for I shall move again
in 364 days, just you wait.
