| Restless birds haunt the air this night
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| Sordid water like a cauldron bright
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| Moonlit trees pale in swirling mist
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| Branches entwine like shadows that kiss
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| The lake at the crossroads is cursed they say
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| The air is damp and smells of decay
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| A song as clear as the candle you lit
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| Listen with care but don’t follow it
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| Stagnant water, a terror in the deep
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| A dark shadow lurking, they fear what it keeps
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| Roaming in the water in rotten rags
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| The ghostly presence of the ancient hag
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| Dragged from her hut out through the gate
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| Thrown into the deep, her watery grave
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| 100 years ago, now the time has come
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| The witch has returned to sing her song
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| Her enchanting voice rides on a breeze
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| To every small child sound asleep
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| The murky water hides the cursed past
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| In the twilight the children start to amass
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| At night the children walk to the woods
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| Their eyes are glassed and free from all sin
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| Her hands outstretched like branches of the trees
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| Hexed by the song, then she lures them in |