[ IP ] 'Come Little Children '

Tis I, the pumpkin of brimstone and fire 
 
 Come gather round and do stand and admire 
 
 For burning and boiling and bubbling and brewing 
 
 The magical stew that I said would be stewing 
 
 Ask not what goes in but expect what comes out 
 
 Will go straight to your insides by way of your mouth 
 
 Ask not what it does but expect that it will 
 
 Astonish the village and give you a thrill 
 
 I give you this taste this one tease this one tip 
 
 Without any recourse it is just a sip 
 
 But know that the next time you want to feel good 
 
 You may not enjoy it as much as you should 
 
 And if you come back and I know that you will 
 
 Your mother and father may take slightly ill 
 
 When you return home to be snug in your bed 
 
 Ginger will be all the hair on your head 
 
 They'll gasp and they'll grimace and get up and go 
 
 Their faces as pale as the new fallen snow 
 
 For what to their wandering eyes might appear 
 
 But a gaggle of gingers inspiring fear
