In which Grand Master Vampire Irwin Frost sings a lullaby to his infant daughter about the joys of flight and the dangers of werewolves who hunt the night for little baby batlings.
Close your eyes, my darling, close your eyes.
Up above in the moonlit skies, the black bats soar.
Down below, the werewolves roar.
So sleep my little bat, sleep until they roar no more.