| There’s a decaying house by the cemetery
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| Not a soul can be caught passing there after dark
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| Someone lives there unseen, left in solitary
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| An estate bordering the city of the dead
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| Every night in the midst of the witching hour
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| A dark shape can be seen silently treading the graves
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| What grim madness occurs, quiet as a whisper
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| A ghoul haunts the headstones under the veil of fog
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| What does he do at night?
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| Concealed and out of sight
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| Digging by lantern-light in the graveyard
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| On the outskirts of town
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| Working without a sound
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| Six feet into the ground in the graveyard
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| Long before the moon wanes over the ossuary
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| A lone phantom departs, fleeing without a trace
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| Now the graves are empty, hidden by the shadows
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| The departed inside vanished without a trace
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| What does he do at night?
|
| Concealed and out of sight
|
| Digging by lantern-light in the graveyard
|
| On the outskirts of town
|
| Working without a sound
|
| Six feet into the ground in the graveyard
|
| What lies in this quiet home?
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| Down and from the catacombs
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| What’s inside of every room?
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| Bodies snatched from their tombs
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| Corpses posed in effigy
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| Exhumed a new family
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| What does he do at night?
|
| Concealed and out of sight
|
| Digging by lantern-light in the graveyard
|
| On the outskirts of town
|
| Working without a sound
|
| Six feet into the ground in the graveyard |