Has evil earned a name,
Playing here a nasty game ?
Who the hell is left to blame,
If days would always end the same ?
Covens of Druid or Wizard folk,
Light a fire to billow smoke.
Will it all go beyond a joke,
When chants of spirits they provoke ?
Witches cauldrons full of broth,
Unlucky toads get heads cut off.
And as it all begins to froth,
Their voices raise their spells aloft.
It is the day of all hallows eve,
According to folklore if you believe.
A time to act what they conceive,
But these dark witches give no reprieve.