The Witch’s Nose

Nobody knows what grows up my nose;

The worms that squirm as they dangle and dose,

The lurgies that loathsomely lurk in their lairs

And burrow through bogies and harvest the hairs,

The fleas at ease as they squash and they squeeze

Making mucousy music from slobbery sleaze,

The trolls that roll in the slime and the snot,

The goblins that gobble the grime and the grot,

The cave dwelling critters that creepety-crawl.

No, nobody knows – no, no-one at all.

No-one that is, but me and but you,

So come over here, my dear…

ATCHOOOO!

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