You gotta halve heart
To make a blood leech depart.
Get stake on his chest, and then drive it in,
His expirin’ should start.

He must have hemo-
globin. . .goin’ with the flow.
He will quaff until he has made you sere
So in that spear must go.

Gotta suck it up bat, don’t poke,
Use a heavy downward stroke.

Mister, you’ll be like Bram Stoker—
With a pen he killed the bloke.
Think “strong,” like a bold coal stoker—
To get amped up, have a Coke.
If you don’t do it—throat, he’ll chew it.

You gotta halve heart
To make the vampire depart.

Wakin’ time, he’ll seeks a sweet venous course;
I shriek till I’m hoarse:
“His gorge is parched. . .
Thirst! You gotta halve heart!!”