The Legend of The Muffin Man
Once upon a time there lived a man who
Made the best muffins that anyone knew.
All of his pastries received town-wide fame
In that little shop on Dury Lane.
It happened to be right across the road
From the town jail, full of dirty and low.
Late one night while the moon was pale,
A lunatic escaped from the town jail.
Day after day he smelled the man's baking,
And now he could eat some of his makings.
After the lunatic knocked at his door;
The man stood up and asked "What, more?"
He opened the door, and then saw the man.
Then the lunatic choked him with his hand.
He squeezed his neck so the man could not scream.
"Let me eat some of your muffins here, please?"
The baker tearfully nodded his head
While the man rushed inside in search of some bread.
The man rubbed his throat and picked up his axe.
The man then looked up as he scratched his neck.
The lunatic saw what he was plotting,
And took a knife sitting in its holding.
"Thou aren't a good host!" said the lunatic.
"Your mother should not have spared you the stick!"
"You," said the man, "need to get yourself out!
I could call the guards with only a shout!"
The lunatic raised his knife with a grin
And attacked the man with the strength of five men.
Luckily the baker lifted his axe,
And the lunatic lost his precious blood.
But not before the knife stabbed the man's chest.
"I swear," said the dying man at his best,
"That I shall not rest 'til I see your death!
Not until I hear your very last breath!"
"I hope you are wrong," said the lunatic.
"Not even I use those lowly tricks!"
The man gasped for breath as his heart skipped once.
The pain stopped after what seemed like a month.
The man gasped once more, then breathed his last.
"Well," said the lunatic, "I will be fast."
He looked down at the floor, covered in blood.
Then came the blackness, almost like a flood.
Now theres a restless ghost that people fear.
All those that hear this story you hear
Know the name of the ghost that haunts the land.
They all call him The Muffin Man.