Weekly Club meeting

Darkness falls across the land
The midnite hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize yawls neighbourhood

And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpses shell

The demons squeal in sheer delight
It's you they spy, so plump, so right
For although the groove is hard to beat
It's still you stand with frozen feet

You try to run, you try to scream
But no more sun you'll ever see
For evil reached from the crypt
To crush you in it's icy grip

The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand years
And grizzy ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom

And though you fight to stay alive
Your body starts to shiver
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of the thriller...