What lives in the walls of this place?
Come on–I want to see its face.
Does it look like you and me?
That would be a sight to see.
It might look like a little kid.
It might just be, I dare not fib.
Let’s leave now before it’s too late.
And the walls attack us with hate.
I’m beginning to see arms and legs.
There are bodies hanging on those pegs.
End House has come alive with The Dead.
I’m afraid we have made our death bed.
THE DEAD GAME