My Gramma Was Messing (Twigs & Spit)

She's known to do some real strange shit
Mixing hair with twigs and spit
Grinding herbs for teas she's brewing
Giant tomes she is perusing
Making claims on what she's doing
Right enjoys they're disapproving

Whenever she goes by
They all avert their eyes
They hold their breath and try
To desperately not cry
Don't know the reason why
Afraid to even sigh

If she asks
They do
If they don't
She knew
Simple things
It's true
What it brings?
Something new
Something new

My Gramma was messing
In things most distressing
At night she's addressing
Something dark possessing
Did she bring in blessings?
Or was she transgressing?
I am only guessing

She's known to say some deranged things
Hissing spells of reckonings
Leaving at first sign of gloaming
Hexes in the dark she's roaming
Symbols are her sparks she's showing
Has the devil's mark she's owning

Whoever she does spy
Eventually they die
No matter how they try
She never tells them why
She looks them in the eye
And laughs and says goodbye

If they run
She knows
If they gripe
It shows
Simple things
It's true
What she brings?
Death to you
Death to you

My Gramma was messing
When things got distressing
Her foolish addressing
Of beasts coalescing
Attempts at possessing
She perished confessing
I am only guessing

She's known to have unexplained luck
Seemed to know just when to duck
But when those dark beasts ran amok
It was with lightning she was struck
All of her symbols were aglow
I wonder if she's down below?

She's still here,
It's true
She's my past
Yours, too
Still out there
At dusk
Voodoo eyes
Hide you must

My Gramma got messing
Things got real distressing
Her foolish possessing
Of beasts coalescing
The clash was impressing
Her death was a blessing
I am only guessing

She will look
For you
Now you know
It's true
Avoid her eyes
Voodoo
What she brings?
Death to you

Avoid her eyes
Voodoo
What she brings?
Death to you

What she brings?
Death to you