Running Wild

Moonbeams touch the soil, streak of fog surrounds the scene
The eerie wind is howling, a lantern light's the only gleam
The one-eyed owl is calling, hands hold tight the iron-lamp
The cold is paralyzing, ponderous steps trough misty damp
The atmosphere's tremendous, seasoned men are choked with fear
The presence of the phantom, a strange and sublime power's near
The figure's bathed in moonlight, a black dressed shape without a face
Celestial phenomenon and he disappeared without a trace
The phantom of Black Hand Hill, moonlight ride, frightening thrill
The phantom of Black Hand Hill, honored ghost, righteous will
Footsteps on the clearing, no one dares to speak or move
They returned to kill the phantom, but no one's got the balls to prove
Balls of light are flashing, an ancient tongue speaks words of truth