You hear her humming,
Bayu bayushki bayu,
She is hunting you in these trees,
Wood axe thirsty for gore,
Driven on by some unseen deity,
She is coming,
And the hum continues,
Cower in the dark,
Or within some closet,
Head in hands,
Quaking in your boots,
Watching horror movies in your palms,
She is coming,
And the hum continues,
Run quick my friend,
Lest you trip and fall to her axe,
Or receive a hatchet to the spine thrown,
And her lullaby shall continue,
Bayu bayushki bayu,
She is here.
WorldofHarley 