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Description
        When you’re walking in the woods,
              Ever so late  at night,
         What is it about the chilling winds,
              That fill you up with fright,

             You glance behind your back,
          When you hear a little CRUNCH!
             You’re quaking in your boots,
               Maybe I’ll go for a munch,

               Wondering why I’m here?
                  Little red riding hood,
             I follow you with yellow eyes,
           As you walk through my woods

                     Step by tiny step,
                You shuffle uncertainly,
           Carrying a basket of sweet goodies,
             Maybe you’ll come with me?

                 I watch you trudge along,
                My pointed nose in the air,
               Bowler hat and cane in hand,
                 Surely you don’t despair?

                        Growling silently,
                   Twisted grin on my face,
               When you walk a little faster,
                 I simply quicken my pace,

                      Alas, the walk will end,
           As you make it to Grandma’s house,
                  You shake me off as easily,
                   As an annoying little louse,

                  I slink back into the woods,
                      Tail curled in defeat,
            But the pinstripe wolf will come again,
              And I will never again be beat.

Description
        When you’re walking in the woods,
              Ever so late  at night,
         What is it about the chilling winds,
              That fill you up with fright,

             You glance behind your back,
          When you hear a little CRUNCH!
             You’re quaking in your boots,
               Maybe I’ll go for a munch,

               Wondering why I’m here?
                  Little red riding hood,
             I follow you with yellow eyes,
           As you walk through my woods

                     Step by tiny step,
                You shuffle uncertainly,
           Carrying a basket of sweet goodies,
             Maybe you’ll come with me?

                 I watch you trudge along,
                My pointed nose in the air,
               Bowler hat and cane in hand,
                 Surely you don’t despair?

                        Growling silently,
                   Twisted grin on my face,
               When you walk a little faster,
                 I simply quicken my pace,

                      Alas, the walk will end,
           As you make it to Grandma’s house,
                  You shake me off as easily,
                   As an annoying little louse,

                  I slink back into the woods,
                      Tail curled in defeat,
            But the pinstripe wolf will come again,
              And I will never again be beat.