Feel the grip of magic,
Feel it in the air,
Embrace the power, shake the hand,
But only if you dare.
Now listen to the cackle,
The witches brew again,
All those who have drank,
Have now lost their lives in vain.
Smell the stench of burning flesh,
Floating in the breeze,
The remnants of hell's fires,
The ones innocents should never see.
Gospel resting on you lips,
It'll do you no good now,
All wasted promises,
All pointless vows.
Witness the witching hour,
All hollows eve,
When the undead enter-
The living better leave.
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