22 October 2012
When the day light is gone and the night has arrived,
From their graves they crawl, all the ghouls not alive.
They gather in a cluster, awaiting the chance,
When the music starts and they begin to dance.
One night a year, they gather always keen,
One night a year they call Hallowe'en.
They sway and they swing, what a horrid sight,
Never a pause till they see the daylight.
Announcing the time to return to their graves,
Waiting for the party which will continue next year.
Dance With The Dead • Opuss № I