"The Dead Follow"

I do believe in spooks, i do, i do, i do

Into the mist, i go a-walking, the dead, they seem to follow,
I must press on, i cant turn back, a bitter pill to swallow.
A moonless night, and crushing dark, the chilly air gets colder,
I feel them there, but wouldnt dare, to look over my shoulder.
Off in the dark, a faint dogs bark, ...or was that a scream?
I shuffle on, and tell myself, "i wish this a dream".

Head held down, eyes to the ground, fearing not to look around,
In my mind, dead still behind, up ahead a frightnening sound.
Cant go forward, cant go back, turn to the side, a new escape,
Up ahead a light shines round, a sullen figure, taking shape,
The dead pursue, still quick behind, as if the hounds of hell,
Had been unleashed, upon my heels, they nip, i tripped and fell. 

The dead surround, and on the ground, a dark figure comes forth,
"weve come to take you home tonight, your life has run its course"
And on the hill, i see the light, again, it seems to beckon..
The hanging man, much clearer now, says "come home to reckon"
As i approach, i recognize, that sullen man is me...
I took my life, upon this hill, i died upon this tree...