Sit down by the fire
And I'll tell you a story
To send you away to bed
Of the things that are creeping
When everyone's sleeping
You'll wish you were out here instead
It isn't the mice in the wall
It isn't the wind in the well
Every night they march out of that hole in the wall
On their way down to hell
They're the ones that you see when you wake up screaming
They're the ones that follow you down the boreen
They live in the small ring of trees in the hill
Up at the top of the field
And they dance in the rain, they dance in the wind
They tap on the window when no-one is in
And if ever you see them
Pretend that you're dead
Or they'll bite off your head
They'll rip out your liver
And dance on your neck
They dance on your head
And they dance on your chest
They'll give you the cramp and the colic for jest
They're the ones that you see when you wake up screaming
The ones that follow you down the boreen
They live in the small ring of trees in the hill
Up at the top of the field
They play in the wind, they sing in the rain
They dance in your eyes, they dance in your brain
Remember this place
It's dark and it's cold
The best place on earth
But it's dark and it's old
Lie next to the wall
And cover your head
Good night and God Bless
Now fuck off to bed.

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