There once was a man who many despised.
They wanted to rid of him but it took twenty tries.
They shot him, they stabbed him, and they buried him in sand,
But he would always return, alive and grand.
They cut out his tongue and gouged out his eyes,
But on the stroke of midnight he would always rise.
They even immured him into the thickest wall,
But on the following night they could still hear his call.
They lost their patience, they had no hope,
So they sealed him in a box, tied up with rope.
The box was covered with heavy cement,
There would be no returning for this nefarious gent.
They were able to relax, sleep sound in their beds,
Until a troubling thought entered their heads,
What if their precautions weren’t enough?
What if their treatment could be more rough?
For the rest of their days they waited in fear,
Flinched at every little sound they could hear,
He would come back and they would hear him cry,
For he was the man who would not die.
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