Poetry

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It’s here again
That day we all dread
When once more
We fear the rise of the dead

But fear not
Our salvation is at hand
We shall be saved
By an unlikely Band

So be assured
When the time is near
Ghosts and ghouls
Will all quake in fear

When night falls
All the undead will cower
Trembling in awe
Come the witching hour

As armed with sacks
Our great costumed army
Will roam the streets
To drive the evil spirits barmy

So to protect yourselves
Keep a proper payment handy
When the costumed army
Come knocking for some candy

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