Watch out for that silver sphere
Floating in the mausoleum.
It is not as it appears
Shooting strangers if it sees them.
A severed finger in a box
You’ll think such things so unbehooving
But you’ll be knocked out of your socks
When the severed digit begins moving!
And when the Tall Man hollers, “Boy!”
You will want to duck for cover
Sweet slumber forever destroyed
When over your bed he hovers!
But you always have your brother
Though he might leave with the season
His best friend is yet another
As they sing a folk song for some reason.
Will they comprehend your tale
Of aliens and undertakers?
Or will all of your attempts fail
As they call you “mad” and “faker.”
With this friend, a seller of ice cream
You take on evil that won’t quit.
But wait! Relief! It’s all a dream.
Dot dot dot dot or was it?