I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red
I am the one hiding under yours stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair
I am the clown with the tear-away face, here in a flash and gone without a trace
I am the "who" when you call, "who's there?", I am the wind blowing through your hair
I am the shadow on the moon at night, filling your dreams to the brim with fright
That's our job, but we're not mean