The sun sets at last, sliding slowly and silently down 'Low the horizon in the west, where a small house lies...
The puppet-man is ending his workday, as the starlight peak through the clouds He's worked all day and says goodnight to his dolls before he close the door He lives alone in this house, and it's his home and a way of living Though he thought he knew all the secrets of his house, there's more...
'Cause tonight... the puppets are roaming the room In spite... of being creatures of iron and wood They live as well as you and I Though driven by other forces inside And tonight the creator's biggest pride Will make his way through the door and charge to take the puppet-man's life
Now the doll runs through the living-room And he's hiding in the dimly faded gloom Now he's approaching the bed And won't leave until the body is dead
But the creator awakes before the doll can fulfill the task And he's paralyzed in amazement as he sees his hand-made mask Of the horrifying devil he made Once so many years ago And he cannot even scream as the knife Rips through his throat
He'll never again be put back on that shelf "Kill the flesh! Kill the flesh!" screaming to himself The doll is standing above the puppet-maker's corpse The devil-mask covered in blood and gore Silently standing, looking down With the dripping knife still in his hand
Now he turns and he sees the door He's tasted blood and is thirsty for more The rain is cleansing his mask as he runs through the night alone He's shaking in tension as he's heading for the town.
'Cause tonight... the puppets are killing in town And the villagers are lying in bloodstained nighting-gowns And now as they all have become alive They are immortal and cannot die And tonight the creator's biggest pride Will run into the world and try to take mortal men's life
He's hunting at night. Watch out for open windows He's hunting at night. Perhaps you should stay inside? He's hunting at night