Tales of truth will sweat your hands 
Afraid of the dark?
Or afraid of the land?
Grandma has a story
That her mind beholds
Sit around and gather
I hope your heart is bold
You may not sleep
When Grandma's done
At least not in the dark
You'll await the sun
The stories are not meant to fright
But to explain why you run towards the lamp light
Those brushes that you thought were ghosts
Those movements that chilled your bones
Grandma can explain
It may leave your hearts in pain
So gather close and listen well
Grandma's stories are scary as hell
When Grandma's done you'll know why
We call you in from the darkened sky
Grandchild beware of the haunted lands
And stay close to Grandma when the sun descends...