Cthulu Comes

Each week it comes to good boys and girls,
who are locked away safe in their bedclothes and curls.

From the deepest of parts of the blackened abyss
To fill cups full of beer and pots full of piss.

With one sallow eye it peeks from the murk, and
harkens to all with its heartrending smirk.

"Come to the dance," it says, "And pray tell what I say,
Today is the day where I have my way.
Let the beer flow like wine and the liquor stay sweet,
let the women dance and the men find their seat,
and to all let them come and witness my feat,
For Cthulu Cthursday, My Thursday!, we meet.