How many teeth do you have?
count them before you leave
you will lose four
you fatherless hoar
there is nothing you cannot achieve
Do you want the moon in your hand?
im sure you can have it arranged
you never can tell
if it’ll be like hell
because you’re blind and deranged
Are you happy that everyone’s dead?
do my cold hands feel good?
you may be plotting
while my dead body’s rotting
to use every inch of me as food
You were always right! we were so wrong!
you were such a good host
the leaves have turned brown
you now have your crown
finally you are the king of the ghosts