We witches love our weekends          The rooms are dank and gloomy,
at the Spells and Smells Motel.          every mirror has a crack,
They cultivate our business,               the unattractive furniture
and they treat our coven well.            is painted ghastly black.
The sparse accommodations              The sofas are uncomfortable, 
are appropriately grim.                       The chairs are missing legs,
The faucets won’t stop dripping,        The cushions’ pungent odor
and the lights are always dim.             is a lot like rotten eggs. 

The curtains are unsightly,                  Outside the broken windows,
and the carpets are a fright,                 creepy creatures moan and howl,
aswarm with noxious insects               the Continental breakfast
that keep biting day and night.            tastes unmentionably foul.
There’s dust in every corner,               They even sprinkle henbane           
ancient cobwebs overhead,                  in our complimentary tea,
and lumpy bumpy mattresses              and around-the-clock broom service
on every wretched bed.                        is both courteous and free.