| In the murk of the firs and depth of the ponds
|
| A nameless horror did swell
|
| From whence it came and whither it shall go
|
| Not the wisest man could tell
|
| Just one shuttered light through the darkness shines
|
| A lonesome hut at the fetid moor…
|
| It is filled with fright and with hopeless whines
|
| From a boy, young and pure
|
| Wind howls — evil prowls
|
| At the chamber door
|
| Fog rolls — dead souls
|
| In the dark galore
|
| Wood crack — pitch black
|
| At the chamber door
|
| Swamps brew — clouds spew
|
| In the dark galore
|
| It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| Whom he calls and haunts by ill desire, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| Through his realms he leads his ghostly choir, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| The boy it did consume, forever he will dwell
|
| In the malice of his doom
|
| Wind howls — evil prowls
|
| At the chamber door
|
| Fog rolls — dead souls
|
| In the dark galore
|
| Wood crack — pitch black
|
| At the chamber door
|
| Swamps brew — clouds spew
|
| In the dark galore
|
| It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| Whom he calls and haunts by ill desire, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| Through his realms he leads his ghostly choir, he shall rest fornevermore
|
| It is the demon of the mire, he shall rest fornevermore |