Run for your lives, boys,
 run for your lives. 
This thing has got tentacles,
 bazillions of eyes. 
It oozes, it slithers, it skulks
 and it crawls. 
It sits on the ceiling,
 and clings to the walls. 
It hisses, it gibbers, it babbles
 it howls. 
It looks like it sprung from
 Hell's very bowels. 
To look on its visage would
 be very bad. 
To see its true features
 would drive you quite mad. 
Flee, run away, hide very well
 the end is forgone- we're going to Hell. 
 
We're going to die, but prolong if you can. 
 
This thing can be killed by no mortal man.