Like a cold witches’ brew. An Oasis for all. Now a hell for the few, Who remain to tell all. Warm winds turn cold As all become prey. The young and old. For them we must pray. Hell hath no fury Like a demon scorned. There is no jury For a small town mourned. Who’ll save Oasis From ‘The Dead’ demons? Who will now face us, More dead or demons? Pray for us. We are alone Come save us. We must atone.