I'm eighty years old, and I remember my Mom and Dad singing these words as we were driving at night on Illinois roads in the early 1930s.

"Oh Mr. Moon, Moon, pretty silvery moon,
won't you please shine down on me?
Oh Mr. Moon, Moon pretty silvery moon,
won't you come from behind that tree ?
Look out, Mr Moon, you'd better run
for yonder comes a man with a big shot gun.
Oh Mr. Moon, Moon, pretty silvery moon,
won't you please shine down on me."

I remember being amazed at how the moon kept following our car, and you never knew which window you'd see it through. I'm a lot smarter now....