Miss Morbid Mack
(My Remix Of The Childhood Rhyme 'Miss Mary Mack' I Made When I Was 6)
Miss Morbid Mack, Mack, Mack,
All dressed in black, black, black.
She had knife, knife, knife.
Wedged in her back, back, back.
She could not breathe, breathe, breath.
She could not cry, cry, cry.
That's why she begs, begs, begs.
She begs to die, die, die...
By Dragon_Lady
© 2005 Dragon_Lady
(All rights reserved)
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