My dearest mother, beneath my bed
something growl'st as I rest mine head.
It be a beast with fangs of raor steel,
and now it's spearlike nails I start to feel.
In the velvet darkness the beast growls me at;
“Ho, ho, ho, ho, your bones will make me fat!
The sight of some as ripe, as young as you,
fills me with a crimson desire to chew!”

O' Darling Mother do not rest, make haste!
Mine biggest fear is to meet this monsters taste!
Spring forth from bed and quick, come to mine aid!
Joint our efforts and soon this beast be slayed!
Think not my prayers a ploy of petty fooling,
O' something under my bed is drooling…