Darkness is the root of light.
When light vanishes, there is night.
That’s when the gang comes out to play,
Until the coming of the day.
When we come, we eat some dreams,
And replace them with our frights,
Nothing’s ever as it seems,
When you’re mum turns out the lights.
But now, the night grow’s fleeting,
And the dusk draws near,
To end our solemn meeting,
And counteract the fear.
When you’re night-dreams start to soothe,
You can return to easy rest,
The one thing we could make you lose,
Is our damning interest.
Now you can enjoy the day,
The murlocs are not out to play.