Whistling In The Woods

Oh, don’t go whistlin’ in the woods at night
When the trees stand still and the moon ain’t right
There’s a voice that calls, but it ain’t your kin
And the thing that answers don’t wear no skin

What’s that draggin’, heavy on the leaves?  
A sound like chains, or broken eaves?  
It hums my tune, it mocks my name
But its voice is wrong—it ain’t the same

Yonder yellow grin in the shadow’s maw
Eyes too wide, a gaping flaw
It stares me down, it don’t draw near
Just waits and grins, feeds on my fear

Oh, run, my child, but don’t look back
Its steps are soft, but it’s on your track
For in these hills, when the dark takes hold
There’s things that hunger, cruel and cold

So don’t go whistlin’ in the woods at night
Keep your lantern close, keep your steps light
For the thing that mimics, the thing that grins
It don’t let go once it begins