One, two, three, four
Comes the knocking at the door
Five, six, seven, eight
That knocking is becoming quite irate
Nine, ten, eleven, then
The knockings stopped only to begin again
One pound, two pounds, three pounds, more
Who the hell is at my door?!
Four pounds, five pounds, six pounds, seven
I wait to see if they’ll reach eleven
The pounding stops at thirteen
And outside I hear a most unholy creen
I peek outside only to see
The knocking and pounding was done by me
Now a corpse lying on the ground
Silent now, making not a sound
But how can I be there when I stand here?
I think I’m going to need a beer
Seeking out sweet liquid relief
I find the answer to my disbelief
My body’s dead, but a husk
Leaving me but a soul to rust
Oh the bane of Hallow’s Eve
I shall now relive my murder without reprieve