Over the hills in a weird little land.
Live fairies and goblins with more than two hands.
Some gremlins they say, can come with four eyes.
The dragons can scorch with the simplest of sighs.
The scariest things to people like us, cos nothing can touch them, they're allergic to fuss.
Until their mother appeared, started roaming their valley.
Hiding and pouncing from damp, dark alleys.
No noise, No chewing, No signs of a fight.
Devouring the children with a plate of French fries.
The bitch as she's called in the company of elves.
Brought this tormenting curse upon herself.
She'd been on a bender and staggered home pissed.
Found an eighth and some Rizlas and rolled out a spliff.
Got the munchies and reached for the handiest snack.
She hate her own kids and then spat them straight back.
Forgive me, my beauties, what a dreadful mistake!
The children can't hear her they've gone it's too late.
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