One should have his galosh to have nice safe fishing, ask the gamekeeper.
Cackles were heard from down under on a hill far away
fifty little saucy spiders scurry helter skelter out to play
A hefty witch stirs her cauldron next to her Bagoon
snake eyes spoon an evil mush as feet dance around the room
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
The stars in heaven grow fangs and the moon wears a skirt of thorns
chainsaw demons flee the sky with decapitated scorn
Oh my oh my Halloween frights are here, although the night is young
old smelly garlic garlands have been strung,
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead
She's here to petrify, terrify, horrify and glorify her trade
when they get here they will drink purple blue Kool-aid
Oh Gee Oh Gosh she has lost her pompadour galosh
perhaps its hiding in the pumpkin squash
Strumpa strumpa crumpetta crumpetta, stomps and rhythms yes they're dead.
Have you ever heard the clish closh swosh
of a silent rainbow as it curves and arches
or found the echo of its reflection by a child's galosh
guess not, neither have I, as the rain marches
the rainbow never says a word,
no, it never says a word....
Oh my gosh!
Utter bosh...
Waves swash,
Watery slosh,
Simply awash,
Auto wash...
Oughta quash?
Lost me galosh!
That's not posh.
Put the kibosh-
Don't josh!
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