| Out on the bog sits a mouldy old shack
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| A graveyard out front and a swamp in the back
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| The creature who lives there personifies death
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| She’ll curdle your blood with the smell of her breath
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| Wrapped up in rags and a tattered old hood
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| She walks with a cane made of twisted black wood
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| A feared necromancer and caster of curses
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| She really enjoys putting people in hearses
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| Blessed with a face that can drive men insane
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| A body by joke and a sinister brain
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| Her feet can peel wallpaper when they’re exposed
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| Gangrene and fungus infesting her toes
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| She spends all her evenings creating disease
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| Conjuring larvae and maggots to please
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| Enormous pupae she constantly breeds
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| On disinterred bodies they suckle and feed
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| A larval sack she did dismiss
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| It crawled into a drainage ditch
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| Once underground it carried on
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| No one noticed that it was gone
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| Down in the sewer this maggot had fun
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| Eating the rats was it’s job number one
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| It terrorized rodents and left them in tatters
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| The flesh of the beasts made it all the more fatter
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| Bones it did crunch and then cartilege munched
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| The slimy invertebrate sloppily lunched
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| It’s tubular mass through the sewers did squirm
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| A limb-ripping, flesh-tearing, many-toothed worm
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| With palpitating skin in gelatinous mounds
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| It made it’s way through Creepsylvania’s grounds
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| Seeking the filth by which it was sustained
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| The Swamp Hag had this maggot very well trained
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| Finding a coffin that was plentifully plugged
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| The corpse was devoured by the glistening slug
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| Rot and decay it ingested with zeal
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| As long as it knew that it had a next meal
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| Feasting on the bloated dead
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| Stiffs enveloped foot to head
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| Vomiting acid into the crypts
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| To gorge on all the parts that dripped
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| Tomb after tomb it slowly creeped
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| As we watched our food sources deplete
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| It tunneled into our practice space
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| And listened as we moshed the place
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| Into the sewer it escaped
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| It’s casing held a human shape
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| A squalling lump all set to burst
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| This town has not yet seen the worst |