Good evening, friends and welcome back to another one of my tall tales,
This story I have is about a young man who could turn your hot face pale...
He had a pole on his back and its hands shot lightnin', it was clear he loved to show wrath,
Yes sir, my friends, this poem I have is the story of Cole McGrath.
The boy used to ride on an old mountain bike, sending parcels to and fro,
Then one day an odd one came to him with the brightest beckoning glow...
He starts to pedal off, wondering where is its home, but no sooner than a minute later,
The package in his bag started humming real loud, and suddenly it made a crater...
Poor Cole got bumped real bad on his head, and when he came up out of his haze,
He put a hand forward to try to get up, and instead it flashed with a daze...
He widened his eyes and his jaw fell down when saw a red bolt of light,
Then he looked at his hand and then he found out he had the power to make things right...
But as he zipped and he swayed across the town, he'd just got another idealin'
He thought to himself "Well I got no boss, and I got my rights of feelin'..."
Then he pondered and paced thinkin' long and hard bout what should he do with his gift...
"Do I look for the hurt and make 'em stand back up, or could I summon up a murderous rift?"
He thrust out his hand to test out the brights, but he misfired someone's knees,
He was scared for a second but he'd just thought then, havin' fun's gonna be a breeze!
So he popped another shot to the poor girl's chest and she fell over sparkin' bad,
She wasn't quite dead but she felt the worst dread, that she probably shoulda listened to Dad...
Then Cole moseyed over to the poor young broad and he looked at the girl from the side...
It weren't too long 'fore the city folk heard the screams of a kid who just died...
Cole stood back and laughed as the poor girl faded, and he looked 'round the rest of the square,
And in just three shakes of a horse's tail, he had set the north block up aflare...
He rode on the rails of the town's power lines and he searched for another victim,
And the people all ran when they saw the pale man on the way gettin' ready to fix 'em.
The days went on and it soon became clear, ain't no one in town was safe,
They told each other, "if he drops from the air, I'm afraid, for you it's too late..."
Cars went flying and light balls flew settin' everything they touched on fire,
Then he perched on top of the town's clock tower, but he wanted to go up higher...
So he leapt like a cat from atop the perch and he got his light pole ready...
They say when he landed, he fell so hard that it knocked the South Pole steady.
By now it's been maybe fourteen years since ol' McGrath came around,
And to this day, if you're in New Marais, you won't hear the faintest sound...
Cause not too soon did Cole had finally cleared everybody away...
And that, my friends, is the horrible tale of the Demon of New Marais.
This story I have is about a young man who could turn your hot face pale...
He had a pole on his back and its hands shot lightnin', it was clear he loved to show wrath,
Yes sir, my friends, this poem I have is the story of Cole McGrath.
The boy used to ride on an old mountain bike, sending parcels to and fro,
Then one day an odd one came to him with the brightest beckoning glow...
He starts to pedal off, wondering where is its home, but no sooner than a minute later,
The package in his bag started humming real loud, and suddenly it made a crater...
Poor Cole got bumped real bad on his head, and when he came up out of his haze,
He put a hand forward to try to get up, and instead it flashed with a daze...
He widened his eyes and his jaw fell down when saw a red bolt of light,
Then he looked at his hand and then he found out he had the power to make things right...
But as he zipped and he swayed across the town, he'd just got another idealin'
He thought to himself "Well I got no boss, and I got my rights of feelin'..."
Then he pondered and paced thinkin' long and hard bout what should he do with his gift...
"Do I look for the hurt and make 'em stand back up, or could I summon up a murderous rift?"
He thrust out his hand to test out the brights, but he misfired someone's knees,
He was scared for a second but he'd just thought then, havin' fun's gonna be a breeze!
So he popped another shot to the poor girl's chest and she fell over sparkin' bad,
She wasn't quite dead but she felt the worst dread, that she probably shoulda listened to Dad...
Then Cole moseyed over to the poor young broad and he looked at the girl from the side...
It weren't too long 'fore the city folk heard the screams of a kid who just died...
Cole stood back and laughed as the poor girl faded, and he looked 'round the rest of the square,
And in just three shakes of a horse's tail, he had set the north block up aflare...
He rode on the rails of the town's power lines and he searched for another victim,
And the people all ran when they saw the pale man on the way gettin' ready to fix 'em.
The days went on and it soon became clear, ain't no one in town was safe,
They told each other, "if he drops from the air, I'm afraid, for you it's too late..."
Cars went flying and light balls flew settin' everything they touched on fire,
Then he perched on top of the town's clock tower, but he wanted to go up higher...
So he leapt like a cat from atop the perch and he got his light pole ready...
They say when he landed, he fell so hard that it knocked the South Pole steady.
By now it's been maybe fourteen years since ol' McGrath came around,
And to this day, if you're in New Marais, you won't hear the faintest sound...
Cause not too soon did Cole had finally cleared everybody away...
And that, my friends, is the horrible tale of the Demon of New Marais.
