Witchery

Sometimes I imagine
For fun you might say
That the truth is that love’s
Just a game women play

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And they play quite unfairly
For none no the rules
Save the women themselves
Thus the men are all fools

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And the rules get made up
And amended ad hoc
No wonder men find that
They’re always in shock

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But the truth is still stranger
Every woman’s a witch
Every woman’s a crone
Every woman’s a bitch

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The “gift” they all call it
From Old Mother Earth
Handed down by mother
To daughter at birth

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She whispers instructions
In the babe’s newborn ears
How to prey on a man
On his doubts and his fears

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“Draw a circle
Nice and round
Sprinkle goats blood
On the ground”

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“Read a grimoire”
Words get spoke
This life ain’t
For common folk

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“Beak of raven
Ear of shrew
Toad wart hair
Hog’s tusk too”

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“Heat the cauldron
Mix the stew
That’s how you make
A witches brew”

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Still the truth is
Men are lame
Fools, still here to
Play the game

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But I’m a different
Feathered bird
So now, which witch tale
Have you heard?