When the hoot owls be a hootin, and the sky is turning red

and it's thundering like crazy, better git yerself in bed

when the bull frogs be a croaking, down there in the pond

and yer git that creepy feelin', something strange is going on

better start yerself to prayin', better git down on yer knees

when yer the creakin' of the rafters, and the groaning of the trees

better light yerself a candle, better lock the doors real good

for yer you don't know what might be a creaping, 'in the shadows in the woods

theres a chill thats there about ye, as ye settle in real quiet

and ye sit there hardly breathin', in the quiet of the night

hit's a real and skeery feelin' when yer don'r know what's out there

and a cold chill runs clean up yer spine, and twizzles up yer hair

and suddenly you hear them, footsteps near the shed

and yer start to tiptoe to the bedroom, and crawl underneath the bed

it could be a haint a walking, from the grave yard down the lane

it could be a stray dog hidin', from the cold and blowing rain

and I'll tell yer sure and certain, yer won't catch me going outside

to see a ghost and wet my pany's, and have to swallow up my pride

I don't know just what's a lurkin', slipping lightly 'round the house

but I can tell yer sure and  certain, hit's bigger than a mouse

our old door was then flung open, I shreaked and screamed and cried

and now I'm so ashamed, t'was only Pa

walking through the scrunching leaves, and coming on inside



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