Harvest Moon
The Wolfman has cometh, too soon
He growled and he howled at the moon
Then sharpened his claws on our Priest
For his bloody October feast
The following month was the same
Too frightened to mention his name
He rattled our bones till they bled
Like cattle, the beast in him fed
So, we ran and bolted our doors
Then hid beneath boards on the floors
Feeling safe, but still, he got in
And ravaged my first cousin Ben
December, his hunger, got worse
It doubled, then tripled, his curse
Still brewing arterial spray
No white Christmas for us till May
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