I met her at the 'Frog and Cauldron'
She bought me a pint of mild
Raven hair, fingernails
With ashen face and a crimson smile
Mable, she offered to me
Something I would not beleive
It was more than magic
She said
Give me something that means most to thee

She lied to me
She lied to me
She broke my magic wand
She lied to me

Morbid witch
She how she cries, pity her life

Mable led me with a frozon hand
Into a wretched swamp
Inside a black and withered tree
She made her home
Black candles, dimly lit the room
Her dead relatives
At different states of discomposition

She lied to me
She lied to me
She bent my point hat
She lied to me

Morbid witch
She how she cries, pity her life