Feast of Corpses

The Feast of Corpses

The time in which you fall asleep
They take it as their chance
And when you close your eyes and drift
The monsters come to dance

They evolve from every main street
Slipping through the city
Ghosts, demons, crippled corpses
Their stride shows no pity

For they are in celebration
Toasting to cups of blood
Waltzing on abandoned cars
Marching through piles of mud

Psychotic shrieking and alarms
That is their true music
They snicker and kiss slyly;
Pleasuring anesthetic

They’re brought to life on this eve
Prepare yourself for the worst
They’ll come for feast and foolery
On October thirty-first