tafkae

Don't go outside, little one. You could fall, you could cry, You could hurt, you could die. You'll be chased by the things that go bump in the night. Lock the doors, draw the blinds. They are hiding behind. You'll be poisoned and stung, You'll be hanged, you'll be hung. Keep the cabinets shut, And stay down from the chairs. The door wants to catch little thumbs unawares. There are beggars and thieves, There are snakes, there are bees, There are bites and disease. I know just how you feel. You can't not be afraid when the Boogeyman's real.