Three ridiculous songs for tenor, french horn, and piano (opt. bass drum). NOT FOR CHURCH.
Chased was I a mammoth by
I uttered up a little cry
Alas, alas, the tyrannosaurus saw [*pronounced "soar"] us.
Whose tarpits these? I think I know.
His cave is in the village, though,
He will not see me stopping here
To watch the tar upon the snow.
My saber-tooth must think it queer
While munching on a little deer
To stop and view this tarry bed,
The darkest evening of the year.
A toothy shake he gives his head
His growl across the tar is spread
The only other sound's a bleat
From his fresh dinner, not quite dead.
The tarpit's lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have parasites that creep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
A rag and a bone
And an old hank of hair
A necklace of fish scales,
the skin of a bear,
Three pointed teeth
And a wart on her chin
With lice twice as big
As this cavewoman's grin,
And this is the reason,
As you might expect,
That Neanderthal man
Is not fully erect.