This night is filled with creeps
They take everything you need
They mask it with serpentine
Their smiles are made of grease
They won't get out of your head
They won't strike until you're dead
They'll take what can't be fed
And paste it above their beds
This night calls for
A bittersweet devour
That's why they scour
Their lips run sour
They won't get out of your head
They won't strike until you're dead
They'll take what can't be fed
And share it with all their friends
Cut your mask open and expose yourself to them
That's what they beg for
They won't get out of your head
They won't strike until you're dead
They'll take what can't be shed
And wear it like you're them