She Likes Weeds

There’s a longnosed dirty old witch Witchipoo
She speaks a magic word called Shackabadoo
The smell of thousand herbs is hanging round the house where she lives in
It’s built on magic ground

There’s an all kind coloured smoke raising up
Among her stirring red brass magic pot
Her chimney means a lot to her for her coloured boiling brew
Holding snake tails, but just a few

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
They are easy to grow, easy to grow
In the morning dew

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
And they always are there, everywhere
When she needs a few

But she also keeps a cat or seven
And a miles far hearing screaming raven
A magic stick, a flying broom
Are just a few things
That she keeps in her room

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
They are easy to grow, easy to grow
In the morning dew

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
And they always are there, everywhere
When she needs a few

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
They are easy to grow, easy to grow
In the morning dew

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
And they always are there, everywhere
When she needs a few

She likes weeds
They're easy to grow
They are easy to grow, easy to grow
In the morning dew

Oho, weeds
They're easy the grow