Deep down in a trench,

Lives a god-awful stench

From the bench I smell this scent,

So much I can't accept

What my nose is feeling,

And all but my air it is not stealing.



Now, in this trench

Lives this god-awful wench

With all but the bridge as her ceiling.

She beckoned me to her lair,

And as crooked as her teeth were,

She bore the most heavenly smile.



All the while,

With a wag of her finger,

She cackled and said,

"Come, come, deary,

And see what this place holds.

Over this stretch of bridge--

A short walk it is--

There lies a land full of wond'rous things,

Where the sun doth shine,

And the moon doth glow,

And the grass doth grow."



Temptation shone within me,

A glowing sin,

Which grew like a tree.

I dared to step closer,

Her wretched smile drew me in.



"Come, darling, to a place,

Its name I may not face,

Behold the wonders it has to offer,

But first you must pay the tithe,

To cross this short bridge.

All I need is your soul."



Black as coal,

Her eyes became.

Soon I realized

It was an evil thing!

I turned on my heel,

Turned back around,

I ran until

I was homeward bound.



Home am I,

Sipping my tea,

My dear mother

Yelling at me.

Ah, how relieved I am

To be home again.