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Brewing
up
some
trouble
Well
that's
what
witches
do
Finding
new
ingredients
So
dreams
for
her
come
true
Little
touch
of
arsenic
A
bit
of
Mom's
old
lace
What
a
great
concoction
One
you
can't
replace
She
says
she
found
solution
Her
wrinkles
will
be
gone
Little
green
around
the
gills
Bright
color
of
the
lawn
She
works
her
way
to
fortune
She
stirs
that
pot
all
day
Hopes
to
find
solution
She
has
no
time
to
play
Today
she'll
take
it
easy
She'll
let
her
chores
just
go
Wants
to
go
from
door
to
door
Needs
backing
just
once
more
So
when
she
comes
a
knocking
Run
and
hide
in
fear
She's
looking
for
ingredient
It
might
be
you
"my
dear."
Francine
Pucillo
©used with permission
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