toil and trouble

The witches brew bubbles,
As they leave their nests,
Flying on their brooms overhead.

Heh Heh Heh
One witch cackles,
As she spots the boy in his bed.

Quickly but silently,
She drives straight for his head,
His heart still beating in his chest.

With a long bony arm,
Lifting him from his bed,
She heads back to her nest.

The brew still bubbles,
The witches start to snicker,
Time to begin the chant:

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,
We give this boy to you,
To do whatever it is you choose

Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble,
We ask of you just one favor,
To put the skin in our soup.