The Last Two Standing

Eleven of us sitting, shoulder to shoulder The air in the woods is getting much colder Jack tells a tale of a beast in the shade While we watch the light of the campfire fade "Eleven brave souls," he says with a sneer Not knowing the monster is already here... Watch the embers, don't let them die The Forest Monster is waiting nearby Eleven we were when the story began But three disappeared... catch them if you can! Eight of us huddling, praying for dawn But three more friends are suddenly gone Five little campers left in the mud The story we're telling is tasting like blood The trees are all watching, the wind starts to moan We’ve never felt so completely alone... Five minus three... only two left behind In the deep, dark woods, look what we find No tracks in the dirt, no struggle, no sound Just empty boots on the cold, hard ground... The sun comes up, cold and gray The two of us smile in a wicked way I wipe the dirt from my bloody chin "Ready for the next group to come in?" "We are the woods. We are the dark."