The metaphysical fog
That seperates our uworlds
Is thinning to allow passage
To the dead from the formless void

On the eve of Samhain
On All Hallows' Eve
Disguise yourself as a corpse
To ward off the harmful dead

Evil Begets Evil on the Sabbath of the Undead

Dead leaves will not warn you
of a ghostly specter looming near
Their cold fire stare will burn through you
Unless your filled with morbid curiosity

On the eve of Samhain
On All Hallows' Eve
Horror is the only means
To keep the wraiths at bay