From:David Chapman
To: <filks@lspace.org>
Subject: Re: Filks on lspace
Date: Sun, 21 Nov 1999 21:01:55 -0000
To the tune of "Red Right Hand", by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Take a little walk to the edge of town
And go across the tracks
Where Lancre Bridge looms like a bird of doom
As it shifts and cracks
Where Feegles dwell, in the bosky dells, on the gnarly fells
Man, you know that she'll be coming back
Past the square, past the bridge, past the mills, past the stack
On a puttering broom comes Esme Weatherwax
In a dusty black dress and a pointy hat
She'll grumble in your ear, tell you that you've been a daft boy
She'll shatter all the dreams that you've been refusing to destroy
She'll give you suckrose and akwa, cure your aching back
You'll think there's not a single thing that she can't do
She's a witch, she's a crone, she's a maid, she's a mother
In foreign parts where she's been at
They're afraid of old women in pointy hats
You got old clothes? Then give her some
You baked some cakes? Then give her one
You give her disrespect, you'll be eating insects
And you'll know why they don't give her any hassle
In the forge, and in the farms and in the town and in the castle
A shadow is cast wherever she's sat
Blocking your view with her pointy hat
You'll see her in your nightmares, you'll see her in your dreams
She'll appear out of nowhere, but she ain't what she seems
She's lying on her bed, but she aten't dead
Hey buddy, I'm warning you she's Borrowing
She's a witch, she's a crone, she's a maid, she's a mother
You're a microscopic cog, and she'll stamp you flat
If you won't pay respect to a pointy hat.
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