I can hear what goes bump in the night,

What haunts your dreams and fills you with fright.

Your heart would stop if you knew the truth,

About the thing with claw and tooth.

It hides in shadows and under your bed,

In your closet and in your head.

Haunting the skies, it dwells in a hole.

A cry to fright, a song to lull.

It will pluck you up, it will drag you down.

Horns make its evil crown.

Scorpion’s tails and bear’s claws,

Razor teeth fill gaping maws.

It eats you whole, it sucks you dry,

It makes you scream, it makes you cry.

Terror is its purest fun,

It can find your hide and catch your run.

Timeless, fearless, ageless, nameless.

Thousands have met it, yet it remains faceless,

All who see it meet their doom,

Find their grave, fill their tomb.

The end of truth, the start of lies.

It crawls, it creeps, it jumps, it flies.

To run is pointless, to fight is death.

You can smell its rotting breath.

It has no weakness, it has no fear,

No sign can you see or hear.

It comes upon you in the night,

And puts an end to your fright.

There is no hope to strike a blow,

For though you wish to know your foe,

You won’t find a chance in any tome,

For what you fear is the unknown