Lock Your Doors.... Tiptoe....

Sneaking into her bedroom.
Tiptoe.... Tiptoe.... Tiptoe....
Waiting, breathing, quiet as a mouse.
He's there, he's in her house.
Escape! Escape! Escape!
Can't you feel the presence?
It's black and strong as incense.
Wake up, dear girl, wake up!
He's reaching for her there.
He's gliding through the air.
Poor sweet child.... poor sweet child....
The plague of death is at your bed.
No more shall you fear, for you will soon be dead.