It is at night that you can hear
The quiet, chilling sounds—
Ghosts, specters, shadows, shades of fear.
Slim shapes of shadows grow near
At dusk when it is quiet,
But it is at night that you can hear.
Their shapes are distorted, fuzzy, queer,
They swim through unworldly haze—
Ghosts, specters, shadows, shades of fear.
They instill in children an unholy fear
As they sing a haunting tune,
For it is at night that you can hear.
They seem to live off goodwill and cheer,
For they suck it all away—
Ghosts, specters, shadows, shades of fear.
The haunting sounds may bring a tear
For the song is hollow, empty, wild,
And it is at night that you can hear
Ghosts, specters, shadows, shades of fear.
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