The metaphysical fog That separates our worlds Is thinning to allow passage To the dead from the formless void On the eve of Samhain On all hallows' eve Disguise yourself as a corpse To ward off the harmful dead Evil begets evil on the sabbath of the undead Dead leaves will not warn you Of a ghostly specter looming near Their cold fire stare will burn through you Unless your filled with morbid curiosity On the eve of Samhain On all hallows' eve Horror is the only means To keep the wraiths at bay