Ding ****

ding ****, the witch is dead,
fell on her ***, and banged her head,
tripped on her lying tongue, is what I heard

she was a fool, a no good twit,
always trying, to stir up ****,
well the **** thickened up, and became a ****

goats eyes, and giant bats *****,
that she found, scavenging halls,
she never left me a note, no not one dam word

she's gone for good, and that is cool,
no longer around, to yank my tool,
if I would see her now, I'd flip her the bird

riding her broom, across the sky,
warts on her chin, a patch on one eye,
she had her own pair of *****, and maybe a third

she drank like a fish, almost always drunk,
her breath smelled bad, like the scent of a skunk,
never made any sense, her words constantly slurred

now that she's gone, hold my hand on my heart,
in memory of her, I cut a big old ****,
ding **** you old *****, signed the nerd

Gomer LePoet...