When the night is dark
And the big moon is lonely in the sky,
When the wind comes riding in
With a long whip made of whistling tin,
And the rustling
And the howling
Of the whistling tin
And in . . .
It's then I see the spooky, long parade of Halloween.
First come the pumpkins
Rolling and tumbling
And blinking their hollow eyes.
Then come the black cats
Hissing and mewing
And flashing their bright green eyes.
Next come the witches
Crackling and gurgling
And flying their brooms up high.
And last come the goblins
Howling and yowlingand making the children run.