As I slept in my pajama britches
I had a dream of seven witches
Each witch rode on seven brooms
Each broom flew to seven moons
Upon each moon was seven pots
Of witches brew bubbling up lots
Boiling and bubbling awful smells
In each pot there was seven spells
Each spell was to be cast upon me
As the witches cackle hee hee hee
So as I do fitfully sleep in my room
How many dream of my terrible doom
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