Don't Tattle on Me - The Living Tombstone, Caleb Hyles, Fandroid!

No more Mama

No more Mama

I can’t sleep, leap out of bed

Creep down the hall, sneak down the steps

Into the creepy, creaky basement and discreetly peek at my gifts

Open up, what could it be?

That motor-mouth, those rosy cheeks!

A baby talking Tattletail, who babbles without fail

Don’t tattle on me, don’t tattle on me

'Cause Mama’s sleeping and Mama’s scary

No, don’t you speak, or I might scream

'Cause if she finds you, who knows what she’ll do

Hide and seek under the tree

Red glowing eyes are all I see

Maternal stalker by the stockings

Matricidal children plotting

Charge you, brush you, feed you treats

Hey, who’s the toy here, you or me?

Infernal presence in the presents

Unsettled machine

Don’t tattle on me, don’t tattle on me

'Cause Mama’s listening and Mama’s scary

No, don’t you speak or I might scream

'Cause if she finds you, who knows what she’ll do

Wound up like a VHS

Shook up and I’m in distress

Locked up in a cardboard box

Broke up like a shattered pot

Wake up from a bad, bad dream

Strung up like a Christmas tree

Messed up, so she got recalled

Shut up

And don’t tattle on me, don’t tattle on me

'Cause Mama’s watching and Mama’s scary

Don’t make a peep or I might scream

'Cause if she finds you, you know what she’ll do

So, don’t tattle on me!

Ha-ha