An old man awaits with a nice surprise for a bunch of trick-or-treating brats. |
Halloween’s a coming Little kids with bags Dressed like tiny mummies, scary ghosts and hags Coming to my darkened door, to beg a treat or two Hear them holler “Trick or Treat” Oh, what is one to do Aren’t they precious darlings Aint they lovely brats Some of them in pirate clothes, some in witch’s hats Even though my lights are out, they still know I’m in They watch me coming home from work before this crap begins Oh, I recall the ‘good old days’ We didn’t beg for treats We tipped over outhouses, up and down the street Rolling tires from high hills to traffic just below Setting fire to pigeon tails to see how far they’d go We would wait until the midnight hour When all was quiet and calm Then grace our sleeping neighbor’s porch, with lit manure bombs Potatoes crammed up tailpipes, remains close to my heart Seeing people cuss next day, “the damned old thing won’t start!” Tying cats together, To see if they would fight Calling up the preacher in the middle of the night Throwing eggs at windows, stolen from a chicken shack Plugging up a chimney using tons of gunny sacks The town would show free movies Every Halloween To keep the bad kids off the street, keep them from being mean And in that dark theatre, we would make out with the chicks And swap ideas and cigarettes and head out for more tricks Then the memories fade away There’s banging at my door I peep from the blinds, and see a dozen kids or more I soak the little hoodlems with a bucket I had hid Why can’t Halloween be fun like when I was a kid |