The Grobelys and the Wobbletobes

How sweetly they do sing

But my lobes are clothly, dear

So I don’t hear a thing.

The Flabberdoes in chorus do

Proclaim the buds of spring

But my bloobs have cloudy gone

So I can’t see it pring.

 

I wish I were a scroteish lad

An’ I were lube again

Then I’d flounce upon a branch

And durble in the rain

I’d skip and skop and flap and plop

All seasons to proclaim

And in the nurdly summerslime

I’d glubble in a drain.

And would you glubble with me love?

And would you gurgash too?

I so truly wish you would

For I would gurgash you!

 

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