Demons dance upon the fire, Witches dance and stir the pot, Ghoulies nod, they do not dance. And the Werewolves sing the song. Soon the midnight hour wanes, And Goblins hobble home. Warm milk beside the door, An attic cool and dry. What more does a Goblin ask? A child or two for play. He’ll guard the house, They’ll laugh and play. All are safe from harm. But forget milk beside the door, The Goblin smiles no more. The attic springs a leak, And scratches wake your sleep. He’ll dance with Demons, Witches, Goulies, To the Werewolves' dsong. He’ll whisper in the demons' ear, “A hearth unguarded is a hearth for taking.” Around the fire he will dance, He’ll add your name to the Witches’ pot, Your milk will turn, your eggs will rot. No bread will rise, no pie will bake. He’ll gather Ghoulies at your door, They’ll ring the bell all night. No trickster is this goblin, He takes his price in fright. Remember the Goblin, when the full moon wanes, When the song of the Wolf is sweet. The price for sleep is not steep, A warm bowl of milk, and an attic dry.
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