I SEE the matter clearly,
I love my sweetie dearly,
          Oh such a perfect lumpy dumpy fairy!
I took her on a racket,
She wore a yellow jacket
          The day we ate the gopher on the prairie.

"Say Doctor, yank yer curtain,
She has the lockjaw—certain."
          We fill the bellows full of mutton gravy.
We try to feed it to her.
No use. She's in the sewer,
          We chuck her in the locker kept by Davy.

She trembled thru her gullet.
We rubbed her throat with mullet
          And after that we hit her with a hammer.
Oh hear her front teeth chatter!
It seems an awful matter,
          The last act in the melancholy drama.

She proudly wears the ermine,
Although it's full of vermin.
          Her teeth are gone, her upper lip is hairy.
One perfect Saxon German,
Her presence quite a sermon.
          Her grave is on the Adirondack prairie.

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