Butchers Of The Night

I'm scared to go to bed tonight
For fear of what goes on
I'm scared that at first morning light
You'll find that I am gone.
I'm scared that when I close my eyes
To sleep perchance to dream,
The Butchers Of The Night will rise
And I'll be just a scream.
My Mummy called them on the phone
Because I wasn't good,
And now they'll strip my flesh from bone
And saw me up like wood.
They'll cut me into little bits,
Play marbles with my eyes,
Mark my skin with little slits
And pasteurise my thighs.
They'll sign my corpse in felt -tip pen
And Mummy will be glad:
She always said the Butcher men
Would come if I was bad.
I wish I hadn't misbehaved
I wish I'd kept the rules,
For then my soul could still be saved
From gleaming Butcher tools.
But wishes cannot change what's done,
I know I'll die tonight.
What at the time was just good fun
Is now my mortal blight.
I'm scared to go to bed tonight
For fear of what goes on
I'm scared that at first morning light
You'll find that I am gone.
I'm scared that when I close my eyes
To sleep perchance to dream,
The Butchers Of The Night will rise
And I'll be just a scream.