A hair standing shiver run down my spine
It's the dust of the dead and wandering souls
The hour hand strikes twelve and the grandfather clock chime
Ghostlike shadows searching for past memories of long ago

The night wind echoes, carrying whispers of eery moans
Calling from the dark, to someone for help, or finish things left
Asking for forgiveness and a place to rest their bones
Mistakes made in life, paying for in death

As Hells' Gate open on this Halloween night
And children now sleeping with candy in their beds
Empty streets awaiting the break of dawn to spread the light
Howlling spirits, forgotten voices of our beloved dead

Hoping for mercy, seeking a second chance
Salvation on the horizon, yet never finding paradise
Suffering an endless damnation, an eternal ghoulish dance

"Where bad folks go when they die;
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly,
they go to a lake of fire and fry" (Nirvana, Lake of Fire)