Four Hole Swamp is big and dark and wide.
With alligators, snakes, frogs and gnats it is well supplied.
The inner workings of the place are different than on land.
If you go in not knowing the critters, you could come out missing a hand.
Only the people who have lived there all their lives,
Know where to be and not to be, at night, when the swamp cries.

Most folks think sight is the thing that helps keep danger away,
But in a swamp it is hearing that may keep you alive to see another day.
In the daylight the swamp is a quiet place with beauty and wildlife all around.
It is in the nighttime that the swamp comes alive with movement and with sound.

This is the time to listen carefully to every little noise you hear.
A frog chorus often fills the air, but this is not a sound to fear.
It is the soft ones that your ears have to strain to hear at all,
That cause your breath to stop and your stomach seem to fall.

A movement on the mud bank about twenty feet away,
Followed by the little splash of water...now that makes you pray.
The tiny twig that broke just above your head,
A possum or a snake, the difference could mean you're dead.

These were the sounds that people could hear on most any night.
Then they heard something that almost stopped their hearts with fright.
So low and quiet it was, that people were not sure they heard it at all.
Folks sat outside and listened every night for the new swamp call.

They talked every day about what this sound could be.
Did it come from outside, or up from swamp water, too black to see.
Some said the new sound had a rhythm and a beat.
Others said for sure it was a voice coming up from the deep.
Talking all day and listening all night.
If this went on much longer, they would be dead of fright.

Folks finally decided this had to stop---and soon.
So the plan was made to go in at the next full moon.
They said good by to their families, those forty two brave men. 
With lights and guns, they met at the water's edge...ready to begin.

The sounds they heard now were known to them since childhood.
As they went deeper and deeper into the black- water wood.
Not a word was spoken by those travelers in the full moon's light.
As they listened for the sound that had caused such fear of the night.
Hours passed as they went deeper into the swamp than most had ever been.
Then, they heard it, and hair stood up on their skin.

All lights flashed to the big cypress tree where they heard someone call.
When out came this strange little man, smiling with joy at the sight of them all.
He whirled and ran to the nearest canoe,
And plopped himself between its two-man crew.

I'm a wizard man from the land up around Ochonee,
And only came down to fetch me a bald cypress knee.
It is needed, you see, for my conjuring recipe.
But, I've been weeks trying to find my way out from under these swamp loving trees.
Indeed, my bag of tricks and ruby stick refuse to work to any degree.
So please, give me a ride away from here, for I'm in a fix as you can see.

So it was that these kind souls rescued him from Four Hole Swamp that night.
And deposited him on firm land just as the morning began to light.
The wizard man was happy to be on his way,
But turned and cast a magic spell he had wanted to say.

"To Bald Cypress trees with strange knees, and all wild things that live herein.
Shall all remain for thousands of years, just as you've always been."