There was a frog down in the swamp
Who'd leap a half a mile
I chased that sunday entrée
With all my skill and guile
But when I speared that monster bull
I had a weird hunch
Those bulging eyes were warning me
I sure would hate my lunch
It ain't always a gourmet cook
Who serves the very best
I fried those twitching muscles there
And ate each bite with zest
But a funny feeling took-a-holt
That made me want to jump
Soon I felt me start to crave
A cool place for my ****
I found myself a boggy bank
And did a healthy croak
I bent my legs and leaped a block
And thought my *%$#@X!!# back was broke
I learned my lesson messing with
That cussed hoodoo frog
I sit safe on my pillow now
And don't go near the bog
But I'm still haunted by the hex
That ****** old frog applied
And I'm still getting Blue Cross
For a tender underside