| From time to time I dream that I’m a manatee
|
| Undulating underneath the sea
|
| Unshackled by the chains of idle vanity
|
| A modest manatee, that’s me
|
| I look just like a chubby, brown banana-tee
|
| As I nose along the cozy ocean floor
|
| Immune from human folly and inanity
|
| That’s why a manatee is such a happy, herby bore
|
| I’m a manatee, I’m a manatee
|
| I’m every bit as wrinkled as my grannity
|
| No difference between my face and fanity
|
| A noble manatee, well, that’s me
|
| With the dietary habits of a manatee
|
| I never fail to lick my platter clean
|
| I sprinkle seaweed on my raisin branity
|
| The perfect manatee cuisine
|
| With my wit, sophistication and urbanity
|
| I dignify my watery domain
|
| No one near will ever hear me use profanity
|
| Because a manatee has his image to maintain
|
| I’m a manatee, I’m a manatee
|
| I keep my reputation spick and spanity
|
| No difference between my face and fanity
|
| A speakly manatee, well, that’s me
|
| Encumbered by my lumbering giganity
|
| I’m thought to be an ocean going brute
|
| The least appealing creature on the planety |
| But to a manatee, I’m cute
|
| I prefer my world of silence and of sanity
|
| But my underwater friends don’t all agree
|
| For whenever I am dreaming I’m a manatee
|
| Somewhere a manatee is dreaming that he is me
|
| I’m a manatee, I’m a manatee
|
| Outside the fold of boring old humanity
|
| No difference between my face and fanity
|
| I’m a rolly polly, jelly rolly, sugar bowly
|
| Heart and souly manatee, that’s me |