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Avoid all whispers, trust no sound

Danger's creepin' all around

Avoid all whispers, trust no sound

When there's fog upon the Barrow Downs

Crawling clouds of fog mean danger

When suddenly you're all alone

Arousing voices lure you onwards

Towards piles of ice cold stone

The darkness breathing strife

They're lusting for your life

You're waking up after a dead faint

Draped in spruce and dressed in white

Crawling bones sing songs of torment

All hope is lost, you're paralysed

A silver gleaming knife

Is lusting for your life