A silvery moonlit path guides my way through the howls of the night to a place that non dares to go
Hunting a shadowy foe, within the mounds of obituaries covered in snow
It sneaks and ducks down and low, trying to hide from me is my foe
But I see him well and I track him down and soon the world shall be safe and sound
From the bite of the night that is my foe
I shall bring an end to woe
He is trapped; there is no place to go
But to deaths door as I bring down my blow