A Celtic holiday,
A night meant for facing the pow'r of Death,
By the merry and gay,
Meant to mark the switch from light to darkness,
From summer to winter,
A night when the dead would return to earth,
And the living would set for them dinner.
They would go house to house in costume, too,
Receiving food, in kind,
Like today, with our children dressed as well,
Tricks, if no treats they find.
Like any feast,
It's also meant for thought,
Reflection that our own lives will end, too,
And think what you'd do, if back you were brought.