| Deep in the misty forest
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| In nights when wind stops blowing
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| And when the moon hides it’s face
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| Spit out of evil darkness
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| Hell’s infants, night’s black agents
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| Then Satan starts a bloody race
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| Thick fog leads you astray
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| Watch out, you’ve lost your way
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| You’re feeling cold, feeling ill
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| The mob of beasts are hungry
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| They scent your sweaty body
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| They’re doomed to hunt, born to kill
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| Don’t’t look back, they follow your tracks
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| You can hear them growl and grunt
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| Start to run, the chase has just begun
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| There are werewolves on the hunt
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| You’re staggering on the wood-ground
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| You’re stumbling and you fall down
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| Thorny branches scratch your face
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| Get up and keep on running
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| Get up and keep on running
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| No chance to flee their cold embrace
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| Don’t look back…
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| Deep in the misty forest
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| In nights when wind stops blowing
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| And when the moon hides it’s face
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| The sound of crackin' bones
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| Echos through nightmare’s home
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| You’ve lost your life at Satan’s race
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| Don’t look back… |