Grab your coat when you wander outside

To protect and warm your precious hide

But beware the coat you do take hold

Is one of your own, not from tales of old

I speak of sly Rangle Cloth hanging by your door

Its innocent disguise will forever seem a bore

In the coats of your nearest, dearest, and guests

Hides a monster of horrid, devious, finesse

Give one false look at what drapes there

Seizes one more victim with out a care

No mortal can bare the patientice to wait

Ol’ Rangle Cloth contains with thirst to sate

No warning, no alarm, no time to shed

Rangle Cloth has you, you’re already dead

To dawn the Cloth you send your perishable soul

to hell’s own gates, awaiting sin’s toll

And carry your corpse away towards the moon

So be wary lest you become Rangle Cloth’s boon