Grim reaper went on Hallowed night,
in search of souls that he could fright,
out there beneath the pale moon light.
Oh, what a sight! Oh, what a sight!
While on his quest, the bats flew 'round
and made a high-pitched screeching sound,
as on adventures they were bound.
That's what I found, that's what I found.
He held his sword afore his face,
just like an ancient deadly mace
and wielded with practiced grace,
at his own pace, at his own pace.
When moon had risen o'er his head,
as he embarked on quest of dread;
before him all the pure souls fled.
Won't be misled, won't be mislead.
Out on his evil quest he went,
just searching for one soul's assent
and for a chance his spleen to vent.
On hell was bent! On Hell was bent