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In the town of Dozier, 
An old woman does reside, 
She doesn't like exposure, 
So she stays locked up inside. 

She watches from her attic window, 
As you briskly walk by, 
Her black cat upon her lap, 
He gives you an evil eye. 

Her house is very run down, 
There are weeds everywhere, 
Vines growing up the walls, 
You should never stop and stare. 

It is the time of Hallo, 
A time to reap the crops, 
A time when some go missing, 
A time of many teardrops. 

It is said she has no heart, 
She lives on blood alone, 
She never is seen outside, 
Some say she is never gone. 

But when the moon has crested, 
Above the mountain sky, 
We think that she has vested, 
In the soul of a witch nearby. 

For on these nights, 
There come eerie sounds, 
When the moon is just right, 
No one clowns around. 

Little kids they do go missing, 
They just disappear, 
Dogs never heard barking, 
Just why, it is never clear. 

So when you visit our little town, 
We will be glad to see you here, 
Keep a close eye on your kids, 
You have nothing else to fear, 

Maybe.

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