| And he started into whippin’on my favorite baby seal
|
| With a lead-filled snowshoe)*
|
| I said, with a Lead-
|
| Filled
|
| With a lead filled snowshoe
|
| He said, Peekaboo
|
| I said, with a Lead-
|
| Filled
|
| With a lead filled snowshoe
|
| He said, Peekaboo
|
| He went right upside the head of my favorite baby seal
|
| he went whap with a lead-filled snowshoe, and
|
| he hit him on the nose and hit him on the fin, and he that got me just about as evil as an eskimo boy can be. |
| So I bent down
|
| and I reached down, and I scooped down and I gathered up a generous
|
| mitten-ful of the deadly *YELLOW SNOW*
|
| The deadly yellow snow, from right there where the huskies go!
|
| Whereupon I proceeded to take that mittenful of the deadly yellow snow
|
| crystals and rub it all into his beady little eyes with a vigorous
|
| circular motion hitherto unknown to the people of this area, but destined
|
| to take the place of the mudshark in your mythology
|
| here it goes, the circular motion, now Rub It!
|
| And then
|
| In a fit of anger
|
| I pounced
|
| And I pounced again
|
| Great Googly Moogly!
|
| I jumped up and down on the chest of the him
|
| I injured
|
| The fur trapper
|
| Well he was very upset, as you can understand
|
| And rightly so, because the
|
| Deadly yellow snow crystals had
|
| Deprived him of his
|
| Sight
|
| And he stood up, and he looked around, and he said
|
| I can’t see
|
| I can’t see
|
| Oh, woe is me
|
| I can’t see
|
| Well… you know
|
| I can’t see
|
| Nothin'
|
| He took a dog-doo snow cone and stuffed it in my right eye
|
| He took a dog-doo snow cone and stuffed it in my other eye
|
| And the husky wee-wee
|
| I mean the doggie wee-wee
|
| Has blinded me And I can’t see
|
| Temporarily
|
| Well, the fur-trapper stood there, with his arms outstretched across the
|
| frozen white wasteland, trying to figure out what he was going to do about
|
| his deflicted eyes. |
| And it was at that precise moment that he remembered
|
| and ancient Eskimo legend, wherein it is written (on whatever it is that
|
| they write it on up there) that if anything bad ever happens to your eyes
|
| as the result of some sort of conflict with anyone named
|
| Nanook,
|
| the only way you can get it fixed up is to go Trudging across the tundra
|
| Mile after mile
|
| Trudging across the tundra
|
| Right down to the parish of St. Alphonzo |