That building is a haunted house
Every other step leads me to my chouse
Insincere smiles are just masks
My unending dread fills their flasks
Going Trick or Treating for fake friends
Only to find any good people are few dividends
Bogus compliments become apples concealed with razor blades
Their acting is no more than an overproduced game of charades
Tainted candy tastes so bitter
The trashy tacky costumes of a bullshitter
This suffocating horror flick is so scary
Joyous moments have become illusionary:
The product of smoke and a mirror
Their intentions become more clearer
