Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes, many have I, three bags full,
One for my master, and one for my dame,
and one for the little boy that lives in the lane.
Hello, my dear!
You look certainly well,
but this poem will make you sick of what I'm about to tell.
I know of a place that fulls of screams
and all the most terrifying things.
I see these people with smirks of their face.
They're all covered from toe to head in black lace.
They are all in such a shortness of delay
and they use their black make-up in the most insane way.