Something strange is happening

My bones do ache and my ears, they do ring

I could pull and tear my skin

I hear and smell and I want to scream

The whispering and a scratching to be let in

From outside and from within

By the pricking of my thumbs

Something wicked this way comes

There's something evil on the wing

Something wicked is fast approaching

Rushing through a hidden wind

Nothing good is what's in store

It's nothing new and it's rotten to the core

And a-howling at my door

We're dragged helpless in the undertow

The quicksand surround and swallow us whole

By the pricking of my thumbs

Something wicked this way comes

Just around the bend

Rushing on the wind

Here it comes

Here it comes