When the bear begins to stir in it’s lair
With it’s long teeth and greasy hair
Nobody will be saying beware.
They have never been anywhere
Near the cold, paralyzing stare.
That dreadful, dead-eyed glare
That would quickly make you swear
That God simply doesn’t care.
When you’ve been caught in that snare
There is nothing to do but despair.
You can forget about “unfair.”
You truly don’t have a prayer
There is nothing its jaws will spare
In destruction beyond repair.
Or so the survivors declare.
Okay, to be perfectly fair
It’s just a story meant to scare
And be fun for me to share.
No need for any siren to blare
You just need to grow a pair.