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Captain, Butcher, Poet
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Late some nights when I have terrible frights I let out a horrible scream Hoping just once a young founded dunce will wonder into the moons pale beam I then whisper him near saying there's nothing to fear as his eyes widen with gaze More I pursue with his head near my shoe and his brow sweating and raised
As I let out a cackle shaking my shackles staring at the boy His mind now intrigued with the man in the tree is making him all but coy come here young man and cut these here rope bands as I sing you a soothing song! The devil of hell can surly tell that you are not one to do wrong But if you leave me here in this midnight clear you will have truly done a great sin All can be made right with that dull bladed knife, that is, if you'll be a friend
These tight ropes are hurting my throat so please do be sure to hurry Once this deed is done if you be the one I'll let you run off and scurry If you decline my anger inclines and just hope that I never get free Because if I do I can certainly promise you your death will be all but care free My thumbs in your eyes and your blood choking cries will be lost in the cold dark night Hope that I am done when I am having fun making a suit of your skin white For if I remember be it May or September or whenever I get free I will do what I said for I am already dead Look out for the man tied to the tree.