| March of the Specters They crept, crept, crept Out of their tombs and their graves They had slept, slept, slept For more than scores they had slept And the villagers mourned and they wept They haven't a son nor daughter left And they crept, crept, crept Drawing a dagger I kept Vengeance for the peace I will set The bad moon burns the field alight Revealing a dozen undead this night Donning black cloaks to hide the fright The fright that already shook the light Throwing the saber down, I retreat to town Bloodthirsty stalkers, they hunt me down Circling about, I fell in a stupor Dazed and confused, delirious stupor And now I crept, crept, crept And we crept, crept, crept In the gore and the taste of death The moon fell, and we were away Out to kill another day The moon grins as the people slept And we crept, crept, crept |
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