The chimes are plinging in the wind
as demons, ghosts and ghouls dance about
one night a year to play rule free
with the lives of obnoxious humanity.
Both sinners shackled and prayers devout
stars are hid behind a sickly moon
in a night touched into the deepness of dark.
Beware, young men, the bump in the night,
close your curtains and pull shutters tight,
should you hear a tree knocking on window or door
leave it be, don't check to be sure
for should it be me come a beckoning your affections
one last night of pleasure, of succubus' inventions
then off to the next world with you, I'm afraid,
one night with me is the last you'll get laid.