Writer: Doug Marsh
Down on the bayous of Louisiana were the swamp moss grows on the back of
your hand papa sit out from or one room shack said he went a fishing but he
never came back my mama said son donâ€™t you every go down to allegro swamp
when the sun goes down a creature down there called the pralngua he got your
bother now he got your pa.
The pralngua the swamp bogie man heâ€™s half alligator and the other half man
son donâ€™t go when you hear the call of the swamp water boggier the pralngua.
I told my mother gout make things right going hunting down in allegro swamps
tonight the stories that the old man told to me got sticky with a stick form
a sweet gum tree. a wiper will cried and I pried to god then headed for the
swamp in a cold Grey fog hours passed it was drizzling rain then I realized
that I lost my way. Repeat chorus
a chilling fear inside of me as I nibbled off a stick from a sweet gum tree
Spanish moss hanging all around stopping to listen at every sound. I
stumbled, fell tangled up in vines fear and pain shooting through my mind
tried to rise then I heard him scream the pralngua standing over me
Down on the bayous of Louisiana were the swamp moss grows on the back of your
hand my mama lives alone in a one room shack her boy went hunting but he
never came back.
pralngua fades then soft pralngua