There is a wrinkled sorcerer
In deepest Pilpulpan,
His face all lined with creases
And skin a deep dark tan.
Now if you wish to charm someone,
Just ask this magic man
To chant a few enchantments,
And if by chance you can
Drop off some loose dinero
Into his waiting hand,
He’ll work his witchy wonders
Within an hour’s span.
But should someone ever ask you
If somehow you might know
Of this wrinkly crinkly warlock
From mysterious Mexico,
Pretend that you are ignorant
Or at best a little slow -
Don’t be a rat and tip your hat,
Don’t let your knowledge show.
You must keep his powers secret
Or you’ll feel his anger flow -
By all means don’t provoke the wrath
Of Bruce, the rugose brujo.