The Dirty-Neck Policeman and the Black Hand
Oh, run! Oh, mercy, run! you little children,
Just as fast and quickly as you can!
For here comes the Dirty-Neck Policeman,
And I'm sure I see the Black-Hand man.
So, scrub, scrub, scrub your little hannies,
And your necks, pray don't forget them, dears;
These men will surely get you if you're dirty;
They'll pay no attention to your tears.
The Dirty-neck Policeman he jes' grabs you,
And if he finds your neck's not clean and white,
He carries you away in spite of begging,
And keeps you from your mother all that night!
Next day his ugly wife gets soap and water,
And scrubs you with a great big curry-comb;
And if you cry she fills your mouth with soap-suds,
Till you promise you will keep clean when you get home.
The Black-hand Man keeps hidin' 'round the corner,
A-lookin' at your knuckles and your nails;
And if they're dirty he jes' rushes at you
And grabs you with a hookâhe never fails!
And then he sits down on you when he's caught you,
Sandpapers you until you're bleedin', My!
And he jes' laughs and chuckles while he's working,
And rubs you all the harder if you cry!
So it's best to keep quite clean, or you'll be sorry;
You never know just when you may get caught;
The Dirty-neck Policeman's mighty watchful,
And the Black-hand Man's a-hidin' 'round a lot!
