'Twas a windy night in the haunted wood,
Autumn's dead leaves rustling,
Trees bare and wan, dark and cold;
I feared I was not alone, something pursued me,
Something perhaps inhuman,
Emanating the cloying odour of the tomb,
The foul smell of rotting flesh.
The noisome stench of the undead,
Risen from the grave and seeking...
Seeking what? My very lifeblood?

Flee, flee my terrified mind screamed
And how easy 'twas to run and fall
In abject terror to the stony ground,
Helpless iIn the face of god knows what fate.
Now, lying there, my face buried in the decaying leaves,
I could sense some namelessly foul horror,
Merciless and implacable in its unnatural brutality,
Hovered o'er me, ready to strike.

All puny courage summoned, I looked up.
What Hellish beast night confront me?
O sweet Jesus! What a fell sight for fearful eye!
A dread figure, clad in star-spangled white linen
Stood before me: yea, yea, the late Elvis Presley
Loomed above me, reincarnate and plump.
"Are you lonesome tonight" were the last words I heard
Before unconsciousness brought me merciful release
Before he could give an encore.