Have you heard the story of the house on Dreary Lane,
number twenty-three, the one with the burnt frame
there once was a family of four;
a father, a mother, and a pair of fraternal twins.
nothing less and nothing more.
Now let it be known, this story is not meant for the faint of heart,
so if you're ready, let us start.
On a night while mother was away,
working and slaving until the next day.
father was home, but not quite there,
he really didn't notice, and didn't give a care.
while the children screamed and cried for his attention.
This is the part, we really don't want to mention.
With the door locked, their hunger grew,
the little boy knew what to do.
it was when the clock struck eight,
he hoped wasn't too late...
He found the match which would light their candle.
This is the part that is hard to handle.
The little boy was not to blame.
You might have done the same.
With only good intentions,
he hoped the smell would catch his attention,
the flame was fast and burned his finger,
innocently they let it linger
the match fell catching the drapes on fire
The children panicked, screaming louder as the flames rose higher.
Now you know the story begging to the end
and the mother's heart never did mend.
From the ashes arose The Horror Twins,
to scare the masses, so watch your asses.
Life's no fun with out a good scare.
-The Horror Twins; Dante and Ariel