Be wary of the river, child,
May it look gentle or spent,
Be it shallow or mild.
And the rocks, that you glean,
they may gleam in the sun.
And the stream, it looks pretty,
And risk seems like none.

But there is danger there hidden,
Under moss covered stone's.
And that slender long grass,
Snags tender young bones.
And the mud, as you sink,
It will swallow your shoes.
And squirming might help,
Or might hasten the ooze.

And your friends, they might panic,
And might run for the hills.
And it will only take...