A chill grips the earth

The world must die before grim rebirth

The oaks ablaze signal Summer's end

All must die, the harvest is at hand

Dead leaves fill the air

The smell of Death

The Samhain wind is blowing

In the breeze, between the trees

The dead won't rest

I feel the spirit move

Spectral shapes make themselves known

Now returned, dead but not gone

The veil is torn between two spheres

The final hour is ever drawing near

Dead leaves fill the air

The smell of Death

The Samhain wind is blowing

In the breeze, between the trees

The dead won't rest

I feel the spirit moving

Cast the bones into the flame

Beckon the dead to return again

Embrace the dead upon this night

The Samhain fires burn, ever burning bright

Dead leaves fill the air

The smell of Death

The Samhain wind is blowing

In the breeze, between the trees

The dead won't rest

I feel the spirit moving in