darkness falls across the land
the midnite hour is close at hand
creatures crawl in search of blood
to terrorize y'awl's neighbourhood
and whosoever shall be found
without the soul for getting down
must stand and face the hounds of hell
the foulest stench is in the air
and rot inside a corpse's shell
the funk of forty thousand years
and grizzy 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
