Children 18:3
The Cruel One
Dear Emily,Flying over the counterBroken glasses on the floorThe smell of fear and two toned hairAnd a smoke trail out the doorCounting back from a hundredAnd they moved the show outsideBack and forth, and front to backTo seek the ones that hideThey don't want to be found!They're running from Cruella Deville They don't know she is the mob, she runs this townShe's all evil and she's dying to killYou don't knowSergeant Tibbs, can you hear us?Hear the howling on the wind?Everybody's nervous here and anxious to beginThere's a spark at the curtains taking our last place to hideTell all the kids on the playground to get on their bikes and ride, and ride, and ride!!Oh, lest she find youOh, she is right behind you!
From Letras Mania