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Now, gather ye roond an ye listen well.
 I have me a story, I have a tale tae tell,
 Of a young man born near these hills of green
 Who wandered these dales and was again never seen

Why he went there we may never know.
 Where blood was spilt for the devil's throne.
 We all know tis not a place t'be,
 For tis a road leading to purgatory.

Some nights the devil screams n the old devil calls
 He befuddles our minds with his cattawalls.
 This may be how he got that poor wee man.
 He got drawn out there for the evil plan.
  

He never struggled, never put up a fight.
 His eyes had glazed, they had lost all sight.
 But, once upon those moonlit plains.
 His eyes awoke and ice filled his veins.

The moonlight pierced those nighttime clouds.
 Exposing the evil that the darkness shrouds.
 He tried to flee, over Hill and dale.
 He tried to escape, but to no avail.

That devil whispered in his ear "ye have nowhere tae run and nowhere t'hide"
 The youth,he screamed,he wailed and he cried.
 Faster still and on he raced.
 But that old devil followed and just kept pace.

On he ran and he could feel it near.
 He could hear the whispers in his ear.
 "ye should not have come, now ye cannae leave,
 you're soul is mine ye'll get no reprieve".

That poor young soul knew he would surely die.
 No matter how far he ran, or tried to fly.
 I believe that Boy is running still.
 I hear his cries so loud and shrill.

As nightfall comes on this cursed land.
 You must watch out, for death's cold hand.
 Lock ye widows an lock ye doors.
 For When nightfall comes you stay off those moors.

If you listen hard on a moonlit night.
 Ye'll hear his screams and ye'll hear his fright.
 That wee young man is running still.
 As that evil thing tries to make his kill

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