I wouldn’t walk to the old mill house
To get treats at Halloween;
For that’s the place where loud screams are heard,
And where ghosts are often seen.

Inside those walls on All Hallows’ Eve,
There are things that’ll raise your skin;
Like an ice cold touch, or a creaking chair,
Or a slamming door within.

And don’t peer in through the cellar glass,
Where there’re bodies buried there;
With eyes in jars that are lined on shelves,
That will turn on you and stare.

If I were you I would not step in
To the side graveyard as well;
For on that night rise up ghouls and ghosts
That will drag you down to hell.

So on that eve and inside that house,
The spooks come out shaking moths and mouse.
The skeletons move in closets and graves,
While crimson pours down the hallways in waves.

The dead start laughing as the portraits scream,
With Steinway playing a spine chilling theme.
A specter’s dragging chains along the floor,
As the wind blows ‘round with a horrible roar.

Blood sprays on walls as the lights turn red,
And through locked doors pass a corpse’s head.
So wherever you go to get treats to bite -
I’d run past that house going out that night.