Snake and leech, flesh of a scar, 
Bring forth the dead, where ever they are.

Tap on a window, give us a hint,
Some sort of a sound must be sent.

Gremlins and Ghosts and all that we mourn,
Raise the unchoosen by blowing your horn.

Howling winds and where frogs can be found,
Let there be rhythms from beneath the ground.

Gypsies and warlocks are welcome to come,
Show us a sign by beating your drum