When I was young and subject to convulsion
I'd rise at night, conducted by compulsion
I'd roam the town, stumbling in my slumber
To climb a porch of shipworm-eaten lumber
With other children--several in number
The oaken door was open wide
The sleeping guests were let inside
And no one smiled, and no one spake
At tea with Lady Drake
We dined on hedgehog, centipede and puffin
And tapeworm scones and taxidermy stuffin'
And from a tray atop a crocodile
She tipped the pot and poured us something vile
A cup of mildew, poison oak, and bile
And in a jar amid the feast
Her stillborn daughter, long deceased
Was served a slice of birthday cake
At tea with Lady Drake
And ectoplasmic veils would flutter
Down in our direction
And change us into favorites from
Milady's recollection
She'd waltz us 'round the maypole and
Caress us with affection
A-twirling with her gouty leg
And visible erection
And came the dawn, my family was alerted
My muddy feet and sleeping gown inverted
Despite anti-somnabulistic scheming
For five long months, I came to her a-dreaming
Now every night I wake myself up screaming
And all the day I twitch and shake
And walk the seawall half-awake
It seems my soul would care to take
Its tea with Lady Drake