out in the wood where the children play the children play the children play out in the wood where the children play the cock crows every morning all of the boys in their skeleton suits had gathered round a mound of roots muddy the cross as black as their boots planted and bloodied and warning pale little bonnets they tried to peek they tried to peek they tried to peek pale little bonnets they tried to peek the cock crows every morning tell us o brothers what does not sleep but hides under the cross s keep small is the grave and none too deep who are we brothers here mourning where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny can t be saved where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny quiet grave each of the boys made his hand a spade his hand a spade his hand a spade each of the boys made his hand a spade the cock crows every morning they fell in a heap to claw the mud that dyed their knees and sleeves in rud shovelled until the ground bore blood with all the blowflies swarming where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny can t be saved where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny quiet grave where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny can t be saved where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny quiet grave poked at the grave til it bared its bones it bared it s bones it bared it s bones poked at the grave til it bared its bones the cock crows every morning finches and meadowlark fowl and wren with twisted beaks and eyes of tin feathers as red as an indian s skin savage and bloodied and warring where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny can t be saved where o where is quiet johnny quiet johnny quiet grave johnny was quiet and odd and grim and odd and grim and odd and grim none of us do ever talk to him the cock crows every morning