O children, run, the Cunjah Man,
Him mouth as big as frying-pan,
Him ears am small, him eyes am red,
Him have no tooth in him old head,
Him have him roots, him work him trick,
Him roll him eye, him make you sick–
The Cunjah Man, the Cunjah Man,
O children, run, the Cunjah Man!
Him have a ball of red, red hair,
Him hide it under the kitchen stair,
Mam Jude, her pass along that way,
And now her have a snake, they way,
Him wrap around her body tight,
Her eyes pop out, a awful sight–
The Cunjah Man, the Cunjah Man,
O children, run, the Cunjah Man!
Miss Jane, her drive him from her door,
And now her hens won’t lay no more;
The Jersey cow, her done fall sick,
It’s all done by the Cunjah trick.
Him put a root under ‘Lijah’s bed,
And now the man, he sure an dead–,
The Cunjah Man, the Cunjah Man,
O children, run, the Cunjah Man!
Me see him stand the other night,
Right in the road in white moon-light;
Him toss him arms, him whirl him round,
Him stomp his foot upon the ground;
The snake come crawling, one by one,
Me hear them hiss, me break and run–
The Cunjah Man, the Cunjah Man,
O children, run, the Cunjah Man!
