The Hill house.
The roaming bride under the full moon walked
Not really sure how the dead and the reaper talked
But by chance she stumbled upon
A spooky place with a spacious lawn
A bonfire lit, staring eyes and the children played
The reaper saw, long enough she had stayed
No where else could she go, ground held her feet
This is the destination where she and the reaper meet
The distant moon bare witness to her dying
She may be dead, but she smiles as she's lying
It's the Hill house where the bride stays
No one dares wanders, even the sacred keep away
