RAT TA TAT TAT!
Deep down in the heart of this twisted old crick,
there once lived a man named Bartholomew Brick.
Now Barth knew his way around a Ax and an Knife,
But what Barth didn't know was how to tame his mad wife.
She would yell and she'd scream as he left to go hunting.
In the basement he lock her and with her fists she'd go thumping.
Rat ta tat, they would thump on the cold wooden floor.
Bartholomew knew not to open her door.
Every day when he fed her through a hole in the wall
She would stare at him calmly and chant this old call.
“One day they will find you asleep in your bed...
and the gypsies will caravan off with your head”
“I will get you” she'd breathe, in a voice thick and muddy.
Her feet paced the floor and her hands became bloody.
But still Rat ta tat TAT.
The pounding got louder.
Barth covered his ears. Like the sound didn't matter.
But it mattered to Barth because this was his wife.
And he knew that one day, she would take HIS life.
RAT TA TAT TAT! The thumping got louder!
RAT TA TAT TAT! Barth knew not to doubt her!
So Barth covered his head. And pretended to snooze.
But RAT TA TAT TAT! He was going to lose.
Barth's bones started shaking, And his knee's knocking too.
And then one day it stopped. And the sky's turned bright blue.
Barth was quite stunned And didn't know what to do.
So he crept through the house, to the dark basement doors.
Where he sat down in front in a place on the floor.
Did she die or escape? Oh Bartholomew wondered?
Where had she gone, How Bartholomew pondered?
When he fling wide the doors, And looked deep in the basement.
His wife was no more, not a sign of her placement.
And nobody knows what happened that night
But I assure you should run with terrible fright
If behind you you hear her lost in the night.
Wondering looking for... ….wait did you here that? RAT TA TAT TAT!