When the sun goes down,
and the [bad word] up,
that's when we go to the park -
me, and Loopy, and Little Gee.
Softly down the staircase,
through the haunty hall,
trying to look small -
me, and Loopy, and Little Gee.
We three.
When the sun goes down,
and the [bad word] up,
and the old swing creaks in the
dark, that's when we go to the park.
Me, and Loopy, and Little Gee.
All three.
Softly down the staircase,
through the haunty hall,
down dustbin alley,
past [bad word] mill, so still.
Just me,
and Loopy,
and Little Gee.
And Little Gee doesn't like it.
He's scared of the things
he might see in the park,
in the dark.
There might be moon witches.
Or man-eating trees.
Or withers that wobble.
Or old Scrawny Shins.
Or hairy hobgoblins.
Or black boggarts' knees...
in the trees.
Up to the house,
to the stair,
to the bed where we ought to be,
me and Loopy,
and Little Gee.