Something about the song.
There's A Monster Under My Bed
Version (1)
There’s a monster under my bed
That’s right! You heard what I said
There’s a monster under my bed
The first time I peeked there beneath the bedspread
It was cozy and warm and all carpeted
And dark – so I knew it was inhabited
By a monster there under my bed
I was afraid I’d wake up and find myself dead
With my jammies all torn and bloody and red
Ripped apart by the teeth in that terrible head
Of the monster from under my bed
But lately I’m losing my fear and my dread
I’m teaching him to do tricks now instead
And that monster who I’ve come to call Fred
Is a wonderful fellow and quite talented
I reward him with slices of jelly and bread
And he goes though his tricks
Like a real thoroughbred
That monster from under my bed
Words & music by Bob Gibson
Version (2)
I’ve taught him that vengeance must be visited
On those who I despise and who have merited
The wrath that my monster is willing to spread
With one word from me he’ll bite off their head
And sit picking his teeth and looking well fed
That monster from under my bed
I’ve taught him that if I don’t get a good report card from school
He eats my teacher, then he eats the principal
And while I’m playing baseball, if I strike out
He eats the pitcher and then he eats the umpire
And if somebody is making me eat all my vegetables
He eats my vegetables and then he eats the person
And if I don’t get lots and lots of applause
When I’m finished with this poem
From each and every one of you
Well I don’t know what my monster is liable to do
I’ve taught him that vengeance must be visited
On those who I despise and who have merited
The wrath that my monster is willing to spread
With one word from me he’ll bite off their head
And sit picking his teeth and looking well fed
That monster from under my bed
If I don’t get a good report card from school
He eats my teacher, then he eats the principal
While I’m playing baseball, if I strike out
He eats the pitcher and then he eats the umpire
If somebody is making me eat all my vegetables
He eats my vegetables and then he eats the person
He always listens to hear what I’ve said
He is my best friend that big quadruped
And if you’d like one that’s named Winifred
I’ve got an extra that’s high spirited
With all kinds of talents that are unlimited
One quite like mind to live under your bed
Words & music by Bob Gibson