Photo Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nebulagirl/4607489737/
The Squelcher of Hullaballoo
There be a swamp down in Hullaballoo,
Where them frogs quit a-croakin’ at night.
And when the moon’s high,
Them crocodiles lie,
A-shiverin’ in scales a’ fright.
For out on those nights in that wickedest fog,
The Monster-ous Squelcher a-lurks,
To sneak up and snatch,
The tastiest catch,
And he don’t very care what he snurks.
He hears the slur-rup of boots in the mud,
As you slips in the sludgery slime.
And just when you blink,
You’re startin’ to think,
The Squelcher don’t hear you this time.
Don’t be a fool of such foolishing thoughts,
‘Cause whether you knows it or not—
A chomp and a slurp,
A smack and a burp—
You’re eated and swallowed and caught.
So ever you travel to Hullaballoo,
Where them frogs quit a-croakin’ at night,
Stay out of the swamp,
Where the Squelcher do chomp,
And just maybe you’ll survive til light.