Beware of the Cribbar, my son;
it’s a danger to all and to some;
taller than a house
and faster than a stationary cupboard;
its bite may remove your head,
which will later be discovered
some ways away upon the shore,
leaving you, dead.
Beware of the Cribbar, my boy;
to it, you and your board are a toy;
it will play with your bones;
and, butter no scones,
your ending won’t be so much joy.
Beware of the Cribbar, you fool;
your danger is feeling too cool;
smugness and pride,
as the Cribbar you ride,
determines that you are a tool.
Beware of the Cribbar…
The Cribbar has decided your fate.