When the moon hits your eye, night-time hike for this guy:
Caligari.
When the stars start to shine, somnambulism time—
Pal, don’t tarry.
Harm you’ll bring to folks who’s sleeping; you’re loping, creeping,
’cause you’re a naughty fella.
During day you are put away and can’t join the fray,
Like baying noche fellas.

You’re embellished with drool, and whose-a mesmerized fool?
Caligari’s.
He’s a doc who’s a creep, makes you walk in your sleep
With no drug.
So you walk but don’t dream, and you stalk, make folks scream. . .
(Pal, you’re scary!)
. . .snoozin’-free, usin’ the boozin’ spree. ’busin’ thee’s
Caligari.

When the moon hits your eye, night-time hike, guy, here’s why:
Caligari.
When the stars start to shine, it’s nix time to recline,
Pal, don’t tarry.
Alarms ring, but you stalk, sleeping, eyes ope not peeping;
The doc’s a naughty fella.
During day, he puts you away; in the box you’ll stay,
’cause you’re a noche fella.

Your deportment’s not cool; you’re a snorting gent with drool.
Gals, be wary!
Your prête ’portment’s not neat, an assortment of sheets
What you lug.
When you walk in your sleep, you don’t talk and don’t peep,
Pal refract’ry.
Snoozin’s he ’busin’ thee; the people’s losin’ sleep—
Malefact’ry.