Halloween Music -A Devil and A Witch

Satan is Her Name

Satan is the name she goes by
There’s a lotta devil in her eye
Kiss a fire that burns you up
She breaks your heart and it hurts my –
Ohh words can’t touch
Ooooh! Lover!
Lady In Black, they call her
Your eyes can’t believe that’s all her
Got to fall, though you know your fate
The eyes of love soon change to
The eyes of hate
Ooooh! Lover!
Oh hands up, all beginners
With her there are no winners
She pulls your heart strings until they snap
Breaks your heart, but you know
You’ll crawl right back
Ooooh! Lover!


She’s My Witch

Got hair as black as night
Got a skirt that’s a-ooh so tight
I’m tellin’ you I’ve got an itch
She’s my witch

Loveable, she’s good and bad
Mess around and you been had
Got a key and the master switch
She’s my witch

Likes to rock to a crazy song
Every night she’s a-wailin’ on
She’s a chick with a wicked twitch
She’s my witch

Likes to drag in a goin’ mill
Plays a-chicken just for the thrill
Till you wind up in a ditch
Mmm, she’s my witch

Ghost of an Idea

Word of the Day Challenge: CREEP

Photo by Photo Collections on Pexels.com

Remember the Ivy that ran along the top of the garden wall?

Remember how I asked you to cut it back and you said, ” It’s only a little bit of Ivy, what harm could it do?”

Remember how  we watched the spidery vines  gently lay  itself against the stones day by day?

Remember how the Ivy crushed everything it touched?

We never heard the stones being turned to rubble, shouldn’t we have heard something?

The Ivy slithered  over the top of the garden wall, it covered the trees in the garden, it snapped their trunks and broke their limbs and entombed them it their waxy, pungent leaves.

Remember how the Ivy climbed up the wall next to the kitchen and through my bedroom window?

It laid it’s vines against my neck and around my limbs.

It crushed my bones and turned my body to rubble.

That’s what happened, I think.

It wasn’t you, it couldn’t have been you. Your hands couldn never have treated me so cruelly.

It must have been the Ivy that crept along the top of our garden wall.

The Ivy that  you refused to cut back

that killed me in my sleep.

Photo by Jack Gittoes on Pexels.com