I wrote a book,
a tale of fright;
of wand'ring caves,
in black of night.
There were great and terrible
monsters creeping
but I'm not scared,
I'm just sleeping.
We turn a corner
and before our eyes
we behold
a wond'rous prize.
A feast of plenty
mashed potatoes and cakes
a great roasted beast
cut up into steaks.
We eat and eat
'til we can hold no more
then fall asleep
beside the door.
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