The Thing

The monster in the hall The demon in the closet The banshee in the hamper The lizard that can't crawl It wraps around your arms Like a heavy black snake The thing's sadistic charms Will leave you awake It has cold, metal skin That will doubtlessly in With fingers like knives That easily take lives The thing is huge: ten feet tall With glaring yellow eyes That attack at surprise It comes from the land where nothing grows And nobody there in the land knows What peace and bliss and gladness are Because the good land is so afar The few in the bad land are unlucky troops Fighting and fighting the thing They want to be in the good land far, far away But The Thing assures the The Thing will get its way The Thing can't be touched by anyone but them. The Thing simply can't be destroyed. The Thing's murders are very grim Especially when You're next.