out of the fog comes a huddled shape   cloaked head to toe in crimson flowing robes   it hunts, kills, eats   unseen in sickening mists of night, some evils lurking in the gloom   voracious hunting appetite and piercing demon eyes   a mandrake sets upon its prey, slashing mangled claws   soulstealer strangling terror, in crimson cloak it kills   mortals who cross the path   the phantom hunts and kills   with a swift ferocity   the demons carcass strikes   death is his way, dare not to cross his path in fright   captured by its frozen stare, your body drained of essence   predator of the pure in heart, sending all their soulds to hell   there is no escape from here, phantom horror attack   he must feed   on innocent human flesh   to hold the madness at bay   that torments his eternal march   death is his way, dare not cross his path   the phantom of the crimson cloak stalks the dark and silent night   an ancient corpse   hes trod this worn path   many forlorn years   aeons yet to come   death is his way, dare not cross his path   the phantom of the crimson stalks the dark and silent night