Ten minutes gone and ten minutes not wasted
Have you forgotten what is that those dreams tasted?
Say not a word or say every word you know
Nothing is as scary as the bedtime crow
The reaper of joy to both lady and gent
Leave this field before your smiles lament
Yes, flee the bird, that black Titan of sorrow
the wingéd demon who makes you long for the morrow
Pick up your arrows and bow of pure heart
Pierce the creature and watch him fall to Death's cart
See him down to the pit of Fire
Where he shall burn in price for his dark desire
Now he is gone, worry not, sleep well
Nothing can touch you, your nightmare's in Hell.