Never cut, disturbed or lumbered,
Woods beyond the river lie,
The unclean there thrived unnumbered,
Driving mad the passers-by.
Shrieking, filling up the thicket
with frightíning wails,
Into brigands turned at midnight
In the bogs there prospered witches,
Served by lizards, snakes and frogs,
And a lot of poor creatures
Witches drowned in the bogs.
There recently vanished
In these woods imps were running
Lots of folks had died in terror
In the jaws of awful ghouls,
Some would stray to swamps in error,
Some were drunk and some were fools.
Be you recklessly brave
or a coward -
All the same youíll be grabbed
Foreign demons, wild and fierce,
Flying speedier than winds,
Shifting into highest gears,
Came to visit local fiends.
In this forest they made
To exchange their evil
They were led by Dragon - big and
Pretty vile, to say the least.
Old Nightingale, the brigand,
Threw the guests a lavish feast.
Served them corpses and some black
Danced on coffins in a horrid
Dragon soon got rather plastered,
Climbed a tree and yelled from it:
"Bring me girls, you, brigand, bastard,
Wanna get a real treat!
Let them show me what nobody
Or Iíll rot you in your terrible
Local fiends raised hell about
Dragoníthreat - the fuss was hot!
Ghouls began to twist and shout:
"Are we patriots or not?
Shall we put up with Dragonís
Do away with his lustful
And his rage the Brigand showed,
Proving he was not a dog,
Barked at Dragon: "Hit the road!
Leave my highly moral bog!
Fly away with your ilk,
Or I promise you will hit
the ground, pal!"
Then with garboil, shrieks and rattle
The unclean began to fight,
And in that historic battle
Killed each other overnight!
Thereís no witch now there,
And the days of nightmare
Evil spirits are dead!