Not what you think.
Close the window, dim the lights,
there is something strange outside.
I can not tell you what it is,
because it knows, where I live.
It haunts you down, to find some blood,
eats your soul, and the one you love.
Gives you nightmares, it thinks it is fun,
to make you scream, to make you run.
When you walk into the dark,
watch your back, which is not hard.
You will see it hunting you, it is not your
shadow, . . . . following you.