Luck O' the Irish

One day when I was walkin' back from kissin' the Blarney StoneTM
I saw walking just ahead a little man, alone
He wore a beard and tiny greenish clothing he had on
I knew at once that I had found my own wee LeprechaunTM
I marveled at the mighty Irish luck that I had found
And so i started sneakin' up behind with out a sound
But aye, he was a crafty one and he escaped my harm
for he slipped away a moment before I grabbed him by the arm
Now you may not full understand the things that I have told
For if you catch a little man you get his crock of gold
But you be careful, watch him close; be sure to hold him tight
For he’ll slip away as quick as the day if you let him out of your sight.
All day long I chased that little man among the trees
He was like a magic kite flittin' on the breeze
Wailing like a BansheeTM he was always just ahead
'til finally I grabbed him tight and this is what I said:
O LeprechaunTM your gold, your gold you’ll give me
Or I’ll be forced to treat you awful bad
And be so kind as to three wishes grant me
Or I will make your wife and children sad
I thought of all the things I’d buy with all that magic cash
But soon my hopes of fortune all this little man did dash
I guess I’m cursed with all bad luck, though I’m not superstitious.
He said: «Ye cannot have my Lucky CharmsTM: they’re magically deliscious.»