I know, I have proof:
It ate the thrashcans
right off Mr. Ballow's pack porch;
It at Billy Balinski's bicycle,
whole, not even a ballbearing left;
It ate Mrs. Cline's cat,
didin't even have a chance to meow;
And it has real long, skinny arms
it slithers like snakes;
that's how it got the marbles
out of Mike Maloney's dresser drawer;
it at them, too.

I've heard it walking at night;
it goes
Sluth! Sluth! Frump!
The frump is where it limps
from being shot by a whole division
of the National Guard
back in 1947.
It ate them, too.

So lock your doors
and bolt your windows,
And for God's sake -
don't go outside
if your hear a
Sluth! Sluth! Frump!
or it will eat you, too.