I was gorged while out ramblin’; he was amblin’ slow;
His manna is what’s lanced and sucked out, the hemo.
Pasty, his hue looked lesser than good.
Leeched for vittles: blood well,
Yells of mine bounced off the trees in the wood.

Ripped me, vamp who teethed;
Real near was I to sleeping in my town.
He crawled up, sipped me, clamped and teethed. . .
Should dread the night, y’all, and not go steppin’ ’round—
He’ll lay your body down.

Swig-sup’s his joy; his mouth don’t know veal;
Tastes after bite, fills up with a hot “meal.”
He’s a swig fiend; I was plenty plump.
Though he didn’t French-kiss,
He licked his lips and sought bliss
Of to chomp in and sump.

Swigged me, vamp who cleaved;
Real near was I to sleeping in my town.
He crawled up, bit me, clamped and cleaved. . .
Should dread the night, y’all and not go messin’ ’round—
He’ll lay your body down.

He severed, then droolin’ as he sopped up well
With his crude slobb’rin’ style.
Three quarts later, I’ve a pall that’s troublin’;
Now I’ll have to seek Tims to defile
Oh yeah, I’ll have to seek Slims to defile, uh-huh.

Now I gorge when I’m ramblin’, appellation “O”;
My mania’s to lance and suck out the hemo.
Grandpa’s chewed; I’m fressin’ ’em good.
Leech for vittles: blood well.
Yells of theirs bounce off the trees in the wood.

Swigs, me, vamp who cleaves;
Real near am I when creepin’ ’round the town.
I crawl up, rip, teethe, lance, then leave. . .
Should dread the night, y’all, and not go schleppin’ ’round—
I’ll lay your body down.