Fetch me the cauldron of toddy,
          Scorching. Ah, now I can palp
The cooties all over my body.
          The bugs dig away at my scalp
Like Indians eager to niggle
          With whoop and a yell on th' path.
The cooties all over me wriggle,
          Almighty in their wrath.

It is scratch, scratch, scratch,
          In the early morning air,
And it's scratch, scratch, scratch.
          I must rid my tangled hair
Of the little dears that bite
          Forever in their ditch.
I've a dandy fight in sight
          To rid me of the itch.

It is scratch, scratch, scratch,
          Before I am half awake,
And it's scratch, scratch, scratch,
          Ere the steak begins to bake.
Oh, if I could only rest
          And coddle my finger nails.
Have pity, thou little pest,
          Cootie with seventeen tails.

Some years ago I thought
          That bugs of every style
Were marvelously wrought
          And free from motives vile.
All wrong. Before the flood,
          The bugs were clever chicks,
Yearning to drink your blood,
          And other lousy tricks.

It is lice, lice, lice,
          Flirting about through my hair.
And it's lice, lice, lice,
          Cooties—they sing me an air.
The music is all their own,
          Their work is so complete
While eating into the bone,
          So comical, so sweet.

It is bugs, bugs, bugs,
          When I try to cook my meal,
And it's bugs, bugs, bugs,
          Oh, what a crooked deal!
The bugs fall in the soup,
          That isn't very nice.
Ah me, poor nincompoop,
          I'm surfeited with lice.

It is scratch, scratch, scratch,
          The cooties have come to stay.
And it's scratch, scratch, scratch,
          The cooties have full sway
As they scamper through my hair,
          How they enjoy their play!
I'll see they have one square
          Deal, also extra pay.

With fingers worn down,
          Down to the quick, I'm sick.
The cooties, yellowish brown,
          Each have a personal kick
Against mankind, and so
          They dig and dig away,
Each one a deadly foe.
          I know they've come to stay.

It is scratch, scratch, scratch,
          When I lay me down to sleep,
And it's scratch, scratch, scratch,
          Alas! I cannot keep
The festering bugs at bay.
          They like my flavor well.
The lice have come to stay—
          Biting away like Hell.

It is lice, lice, lice,
          When the wintry winds blow fierce,
And it's lice, lice, lice,
          When the zephyr seems to pierce
All matter grey within,
          Causing a wistfull lull,
Quite filling up the bin,
          That cave dug thru my skull.

Dear cootie, do not drain
          My bloody scalp. Off creep,
Thou venomed stinger! Vain
          Ah, vain, I plead. Quick, leap
The fence, traverse the lane
          Of pain. Ah, yes, I feel
Fierce stinging thru my brain.
          With fractured pith I reel.

It is scratch, scratch, scratch,
          The itch grows worse and worse.
And it's scratch, scratch, scratch,
          Yet nothing can disperse
My faculties all smug.
          The vermin cannot awe
Me here within the jug.
          I'm chained upon the floor.

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