I’d never like to be a witch
Except on Halloween
To ride upon a bushy broom
Before a full moon’s gleam

A wart upon my crooked nose
I’d hold a big, black cat
And on my long and shaggy hair
There’d be a pointed hat

I’d drink no potions, no, just eat
Those gooey trick-or-treats
I’d get by stopping house to house
Astride my broom’s rough seat

And when the night is over
And morning streaks the sky
I’d leave my haunted mansion
And broom rides wild and high

Because:

I’d never like to be a witch
Except on Halloween
To ride upon a bushy broom
Before a full moon’s gleam