The Headless Horseman

'Twas a cold dark night
on all hallows' eve
not a tricker in sight
or a treat to believe

The townsfolk will hide
behind doors that lock
for the horseman will ride
at twelve of the clock

It's the witching hour
the horseman is heading
through streets in your town
his will is beheading

Heads are his purchase
and collection his tax
his aim so righteous
with a slice of his axe

Through the dark of the night
his search will go on
for the head that just might
be the horseman's own

He rides through the streets
horse with eyes of fire
tricks and no treats
heads he does acquire

So knock on those doors
for your treats so sour
but hurry on home
before the witching hour