There was an old woman who lived by the sea,
Where she gathered kelp and nettles for her tea.
She lived in this ancient house all alone,
Made from plaster, rocks, and bones.
She was content by herself out on the moors,
Until one day, a lone pirate darkened her door.
He demanded the treasure he came to seek,
She was easy pickings, being old, frail, and meek.
The woman told him to go, here there was no treasure,
But gold and jewels weren’t the only things he came to measure.
He forced his way in, ready to sin,
But her cane caught him right on the chin.
He fell to the floor in a great big heap,
As he slipped into an unconscious sleep.
The woman didn’t feel the least bit bitter,
She’d eat like a queen all fall and winter.
She’d bleed him, skin him and string him up,
And fill her bowls full of his pulp.
So if you see a seaside shack with a woman all alone,
You best just leave her be, or she’ll pick her teeth with your bones.
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