An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,
An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched away—
You better mind your parents and yer teachers fond an’ dear,
An’ cherish them ’at loves you, and dry the orphant’s tear,
An’ he’p the po’ an’ needy ones ’at clusters all about,
Er the gobble-uns ’ll git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!