The cold moon glows as the clock strikes midnight
The putrid miasma seeps out of the ground
The landscape is bathed in an eerie moonlight
Revealing to us the strangest of terrors
Inside the mansion the doors are unlocked
Yet some of the guests can never leave
The candlelight flickers as if to a lonely tune
The church is empty yet a choir sings

Terrified voices whisper from inside the walls
Curtains rustle even though there is no wind
Voices of children echo through the old house
As shadows move in the deserted hallway
Envious of our lives and human shells
The beyond opens and foul spirits rise

It is time

Come, spirits...