When twilight shadows softly fall,
And darkness hovers near,
Then Willis cranks his Chevrolet,
And sets the clutch in high.
Then South two miles without a halt,
He turns her to the West,
Each mile his heart goes pitty-patt
For the girl that he loves best
Ere long the miles are left behind,
The GOAL seems very near,
He honks his horn in boyish glee,
For his sweetheart to appear.
Alas, the house is dark and still,
There's not a soul in sight,
His heart begins to palpitate,
The mist obscure his sight.
There must be something wrong, says he,
I'm sure this is my date,
I'll honk again a time or two,
And then investigate.
HONK, HONK, honk honk, still no response,
Oh, what can be the matter
His temperature began to drop
His teeth began to chatter.
He hastened up the gravel walk,
Until he reached the door,
And then he knocked incessantly,
Until his fist were sore.
He saw a note tacked onto he door,
And this is what he read,
We'll not be home tonight, sweetheart,
Go home, and go to bed.
J M Hughes, Lamar, Missouri abt 1950
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