High in the mountains is a Castle called “Cast a Spell”
It’s wizardry and defined magic that will never tell
Yet an evil witch to ugly to show her face
The Mirror Mirror on the wall wants to erase
The flying broom is the witch’s trace
Once the witch turned some citizens into solid trees
It was for all eternity to always feel the breeze
As the witch storms the night
It will torment and fright being a plight
The witches idea is to catch by surprise and being out of sight
There is always casting of spells
Once waters were turned into uncontrollable wells
A witch’s broom becoming her clean sweep
Her determination that is quite deep
Controlling people at her will
Looking into her eyes they will be quite still
As the witch flies the skies, her fire *** and theory will rearrange your demise.