LYRIC

I remember as a laddie, I would get an awful fright
When me mother used to tell me of the bog.
I remember oh so clearly I was scared to death at night
When I used to see it covered up in fog.
For the ghosties and the ghoulies
Go out hunting on the moor
And they neither dance nor drink the way of men.
Keep your lads and lasses home at night not out upon the moor,
Or you'll never see them anywhere again, No! No!
You'll never see them anywhere again.

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