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“Hansel, why have we returned? I know that witch is toast
But what if she’s around here someplace as a blackened ghost?”

“Gretel, do you not recall, these flowers were not here
That when the witch was still alive these woods withered in fear.”

“But, Hansel, when we came as kids, complete with dirty knees
All we had to guide us was a dirt path through the trees 
And now the very path itself is hid by vegetation
So tell me how you plan for us to find our destination.”

“Gretel can’t you smell that spicy scent of gingerbread
It’s even stronger than the flowers upon which we tread.”

“Hansel, please don’t tell me there’s some dumb scheme in your head
Like when we marked our way with crumbs on which the sparrows fed.”

“Gretal, Gretal, sister dear, just give a guy a break
Can’t you just for once forget that minuscule mistake?
But, lo, I see the witches hut; it’s right there up ahead
I won’t pretend that I’m not glad that awful witch is dead.”

“Don’t you ‘Gretal, Gretal’ me; I know you all too well.
I’d even bet you came to get some gingerbread to sell.”

“Gretal, I’m so fed up with your patronising grin.
But here’s the door; it’s up to you, but I am going in…….
Okay, now I’m puzzled, because inside there’s a bed
And in it there’s a grandma with a hairy face and head.”

“Hansel, as expected, seems you’ve led us both astray
You’ve brought us to this place from which, if wise, we’d run away
But no, you cannot help yourself, you’re quite beyond belief
So go back in and shut the door and talk about big teeth!”

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