A real witch won’t tell you she’s a witch
Twine and needle – sew me a stitch
But you’ll know her when you see her
One-a stitch, two-a stitch, three…
She’ll root you to the floor with nothing more
Four-a stitch, five-a stitch, six…
Than a lock of hair and kindling sticks
Seven… eight.. nine…
When the full moon starts to climb
Tie it off and cut the thread
One dormouse: preferably dead
Put the needle back the tin
Eye of newt and toe of frog
Now stand back – admire your work
Tiger’s claw and baboon’s blood
See the work is well and good
It’s better you don’t let her in
Show it to your kith and kin
Though, really, you’ll be powerless
And watch it weave it’s magic spell
To deny her, to defy her, to untie her
On those you love – who love you well
From your hair – she’ll stick like pitch
Now, unpick them – one by one by one
Still, you won’t unpick the witch
When undone, your work is done