Stone figures, bathed in moonlight
Guarding the ancient night
Atop the stone pillars and rafters
And when the chord strikes
They rise from the night
To soar to amazing heights
They flutter from place to place
Showing their terrifying face
Lips curled over their jaws
Stone hands with iron claws
Wings that spread across the sky
Ready to swoop and make you die
Gargoyles arisen from stone
A curse to all who pass by
But when the horizon spreads pink
They flutter home and are soon gone
And short-lived is the Curse
Of the gargoyles

When again do they strike
Flying from stone, into the night
Lifeless, bereft, and possesed
Clutched by a demonic plight
And roaming everywhere like a pest
Taking what they want, and don't really need
The chord shall strike, though, oncemore
And they will swoop down in scores