Twigs and trouble, toil and bubble,

In my broom, there hides a key, of all the good things, you've given me,

On the eleventh stage, and here I come,

And here, how much, have I already spun,

Not enough dear, keep working,

Keep watching, the stew that's brewing,

Keep sinking,

In this mood I'm feeling,

The elevation I'm feeling,

The fresh air we're breathing,

This blood moon,

I'm fiending,

Is this a big elf I'm seeing,

And I'm bleeding,

And this deer keeps waiting,

And the third guy came out,

Said how's this cold you're keeping,

This warmth you are seeking,

This mild feeling,

Of sweet vanilla filling.