Kashl kashl kashl I go on my cancer stick,
Viddying this world on my oddy knocky.
And boo hoo hoo I go in my messels when I
Sloosh to the platching of the wind, for the wind
This nochy is as oddy knocky as
I.
When a malchick, the pooshkas of my youth were
Sneeting a world better than the world I am
In now,
A world,
Where droogs and radosties could be the order
Of the day. But the klootches
To this Heaven are now nowhere to be seen.
I clop clop clop to be let in but there is no answer and
Me left in the razor rain.
The yahzick won’t provide a goloss and so I come back to
This sodding earth of the bolshy and bezoomy Bog.
Minoota after minoota, all I can messel is lubillubbing some
Devotchka of a butter heart, and some
Chai after the affair.
Snuffing it is too easy and so chepooka.
Let’s wait and viddy some more for raz is
A poodooshka, and I am in no mood to
Zasnoot.
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