The chorus frogs in the big
Would sing their songs to the silvery moon.
Tenor singers were out of place,
For every frog was a double bass.
But never a human chorus
Could beat the accurate time they set.
The solo singer began the joke;
He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak, Croak,
I'll croak,"And the chorus followed him: "Croak, croak, croak!" The poet frog, in his plaintive tone,
Sang of a sorrow was all his own;"How shall I win to my heart's desire?
How shall I feel my spirit's fire?"And the solo frog in his deepest croak,"To fire your spirit," he sang, "eat coke, Coke, eat coke,"And the chorus followed him: "Coke, coke, coke!" The green frog sat in a swampy
And he sang the song of he knew not what."The world is rotten, oh cursed plight,
That I am the frog that must set it right.
How shall I scatter the shades that lurk?"And the old man bullfrog sang, "Get work, Work, get work,"And the chorus followed him: "Work, work, work!" The soaring spirits that fain would
On wings of hope to the starry
Must face the snarls of the jealous dogs,
For the world is ruled by its chorus frogs.
