Disclaimer: Jareth should thank his lucky stars I don't own him. And I thank my lucky stars that I don't own the goblins.
Note: I take no responsibility for the insanity this piece may cause.
Baby-Sitting Goblins II
Or
Run For Your Lives, She's At It Again!
Oh, no, no, no!
It can't be so!
Jareth's left them here once more,
I'm heading out the kitchen door.
I cannot shall not sit them now.
Not for a song nor for a cow.
But now they've caught me so adieu, farewell.
I'm sure I'll end today in a psych ward cell.
But what can we do today?
We'll go to Iraq please- if we may.
And if old Sadam then does attack?
Our good goblins will drive him back.
And if the CIA your freedom wants?
We'll run away and answer them with taunts.
From Wonderland to New Orleans
We'll seek a certain vamp of means…
But here we are: the South of France.
Go find Jareth and help him sow his pants.
Bon soir, Goblins dear.
I'm so happy I could cheer.
For now I no longer have to sit you.
In Iraq or the Red Queen's zoo.
Find your king- help him sew.
Go and model in his show!