In the dead of night, where shadows play,
Whispers rise from the decay,
A haunting melody begins to sway,
As the specters dance their macabre ballet

Cold fingers trace the spine,
In the darkness, they intertwine

Whispers of the Damned, in the silent scream,
Where nightmares live and dark dreams teem,
Eerie echoes in the halls, they seem,
To call out from beyond, in the moon's pale beam

Beneath the floorboards, secrets lie,
Ancient curses that never die,
A ghostly figure with hollow eyes,
Sings a lullaby of your demise

The clock strikes twelve, the witching hour,
In the grip of fear, the brave cower,
The haunted chorus, it does empower,
The spirits that in the shadows tower

Whispers of the Damned, where the cold wind moans,
In the house of horror, filled with groans,
Eerie echoes that chill to the bones,
In the darkness, they claim their thrones