| The winter of fortynine had passed
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| A winter of haunt n fear
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| Hunger had knocked at the city-gates
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| And threatened the pioneers
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| Then low in the east strange clouds appeared
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| And dark became the sun
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| And the courage to fight and win a war
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| Was all of a sudden gone
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| Black crickets
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| By 10s millions or more
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| Black crickets
|
| By 10s millions or more
|
| Until the fields that waved were few
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| Black crickets
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| Crickets by tens of millions came
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| Like fog on a british coast
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| They swept down from the mountainsides
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| Settled by the mormon post
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| Then the oldest old man got this bright idea
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| And he called for all the men
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| We’ll build a giant nest & the crickets will fear
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| That the big bird is here again!
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| Black crickets…
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| They constructed the nest and two days went by
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| They all prayed by the end of their work
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| The unexpected guests would fly
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| They saw the nest the vision occured
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| And the dogs would wag their tails
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| Crickets all shouted: «Bird is the word»
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| The insects hit the trail
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| All heads were bowed as they thanked the lord
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| And they reaped while the devil raved
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| 'Coz their harvest was saved to tons of praise
|
| And the pioneers were saved
|
| Black crickets…
|
| Thousands of millions
|
| Millions of billions
|
| Billions of trillions
|
| Trillions of zillions
|
| D.A.Dillions of fantazillions
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| Of black crickets |