I was going to say,
In my weird and weary way,
Folks I’ve gone to hell,
I stumbled, slipped,
When Georg me tripped,
Despite my loudest yelp,
Not a Christian there to help,
Witches, heathens, ghouls and all,
I am the only one to fall,
Suspicious you ask; you bet,
Why not Ma, or Georg instead?
Anyway, I am negotiating,
I’m debating,
With the second in command,
The first is not at hand,
He’s out for Halloween, to find,
Among them all, some of his kind,
He won’t be long; he’ll have his fill,
Despite there’s millions out there still,
Would you not say then, what I said,
With you I’d make a bet,
Not one in hundred will you find,
Of this ,so called, Christian kind,
Your ransom is outrages, don’t you think,
For help rely on Georg, that fink,
Heartily he laughed, and said I know,
This makes it funny so,
You want a hundred, for one wee me,
In convulsions now he is, heeeeeheehee,
I tell you what he said in a satanic smile,
Hang in and wait a while,
Again he burst out laughing loud,
Louder now for help I’d shout,
Hot times upstairs, I could hear it well,
Dancing frolicking, not hear me yell,
You’ll be here for good that devil grinned,
You dared, against the devil sinned,
A ransom note, I quickly wrote,
Up to you the updrafts float,
When it up the chimney flew,
Now it’s up to you, and you,
If not, so long it has been fun,
The devil sure again has won,
So long, unless,
A hundred Christians would confess,
Their sins in hell my fate redress.©01/11/2009