The rickety house on the rickety hill,
The rickety house on the rickety hill,
The rickety clock on the window sill,
The rickety, rackety twisted stairs,
Leading up to the rickety rackety lair,
The jet black crow in the rickety tree,
The rickety house the crow can see,
The rickety, rackety knackered old clock,
Sings out to the wind tick tock tick tock,
Beady eyes watch intently, the old window sill,
In the rickety house on the rickety hill,
The rickety hand in the rickety clock,
Hits the rickety twelve with a rackety knock,
The rickety man from his slumber awakes,
Getting up from bed, his cane he takes.
The rickety stairs make a rackety sound,
As the rickety man, slowly walks down.
Who could it be at his rickety door?
And what on earth were they here for?
Rickety key turned in rickety lock,
The rickety man spies source of the knock,
A crow, jet black by a rickety vase,
Beadily staring at his weathered old face,
In alarm the rickety man leaps back,
As up flies black crow, poised for attack,
Peck peck, peck peck, the crow aims for eyes,
Help help, help help, the rickety man cries,
Suddenly in fear, the man jolts awake,
Terror around him, his body does shake,
He looks from his window and gasps as he sees,
A crow beadily watching from a rickety tree.