They say that some nights before the full moon
You can hear her lachrymal cries in the streets
And that her voice echoes in the stillness
Calling for her children

They say that you can hear their laughter
By the water’s edge beyond the woods
But their laughter turn to ghastly screams
Drowning, drowning in horror

They say that you can see their shadows
In the old roads where no one ventures
And those who thought themselves brave
Died of fright with expressions of terror

Or that some have gone insane
Or they got sick of some disease
Unable to describe or explain
What happened in the night

They say that their spirits still prowl
And that no other creatures can be heard
Not even the wind rustles amid the trees
Until their giggles whisper in the leaves

They say your soul will shake with cold
When you hear their little voices cry
When the children knock on your door
With visions of dreaded visceral eyes