Cindy's parents were out
When the hat came about
And the doorbell rang.
Cindy didn't understand now
She couldn't explain how
But at her door sat a hat, a magician's hat.
Cindy opened the door,
The hat could talk; and it cursed at her and called her a salt-sodden whore,
And that was all it took
Before Cindy shook and shook some more
And shut the door.
What the poor woman didn't understand,
That night, the house was not to be unmanned.
For the hat could talk and walk, float and dance,
And it certainly wasn't going to let this stand.
When Cindy got back, she heard a noise
Unknown to her, it was one of its ploys.
It came from her closet and she went and looked, and that's how you knew Cindy's goose had been cooked.
That night Cindy woke up from a dream.
She felt strange, like her sanity had started to seep,
And when the hat floated in, her confusion ran deep.
The hat said something strange; "Do not be afraid, for I am the company you keep."
The hat bobbed to and fro,
like it had something to show.
Cindy, in awe, stood up and followed the garment.
It lead her to the closet, where she heard the strange sound, and as the doors opened, she gasped and smiled.
A portal had opened, it poured pixie dust and rainbows, and for once, Cindy felt just like a child.
And then the hat leaned in and shoved her into the hole. The magic visuals faded to reveal red flesh, like the inside of a throat of sorts.
But Cindy grabbed on to the edges, as helpless as a mole.
And as her fingers were plucked one-by-one, before she fell: "No one will know," It retorts, "you will disappear and not even your parents will be able to tell."
And Cindy screamed, and Cindy fell
As poor Cindy's flesh burned in Hell.