Mottled green hands emerge from piles of leaves
Glowing white skeletons hanging from the eaves
Scarecrows alert for orange-beaked thieves
On this night be ready for all that deceives
Crowds of painted faces in all shapes and hues
People aren't people unless it's what they choose
Tonight's diverse population will be yesterday's news
But for now it doesn't matter about differences in views
Giggling children clutch at rusted iron gates
The thrilling adventure of not knowing what awaits
Who could frown on those judges, those all knowing fates?
They are the connection through which this kind relates
