The Ballad of the Xaxanion Toadstool
- The world farts a hippopotamus' surname to the end turtle,
- Going with large vertices to end the hurtle.
- The rebounding werewolf says bonk to please the happy castle,
- Evil dragons breathing pink elephants from a parcel.
- The jealous zebra in Leeds- a street of pheasants,
- Throws meat to the gong to please the peasants.
- When Zoblad - the honking duck of measles,
- Grows weary of brushing teeth with teasels,
- And Wagnarog - the giant mirror,
- Releases hideous reflections of terror.
- Then I shall wait, and on the sand
- The forces of confusion shall spread through the land.
- The resting zlangoons shall awake,
- They shall demand their golden rake
- With which to sweep away the fleas
- Which so badly plague their hairy knees.
- Mreoow says the restful wrangling rat,
- As Prrrrrrrap the daemon grabs his baseball bat.
- The giant friendly Marlinwake,
- Snaps hungrily at his demented cake,
- And brings the child of Klorn to bake
- A slanting wobbly mouse.
- With cries of “Greet the boggling Thog,
- “And give him gifts of boiled frog."
- The crinkly wrinkly Zibzabod
- Did leave his feline house.
- A Not of Vildam shall enter in,
- It brings a pint of fish milk to him,
- The Zibzabod did laugh and cry,
- “You can stick it in your pointy eye."
- And the offended Not did leave,
- A dagger with which his fish did cleave.
- And so I come to rest my tome,
- Or else I fear your mouth would foam.
- But I leave you with these last few words,
- ‘Och zib and zab those frolicing birds,
- ‘Always beat a goldfish, that’s my rule.’
- Quoth the Xaxanion Toadstool.