See, see the tiny sky
Marvel at its big puce depths.
Tell me, Tony do you
Wonder why the armadillo ignores you?
Why its foobly stare
makes you feel churned.
I can tell you, it is
Worried by your giffengididdle ****** growth
That looks like
A mold.
What's more, it knows
Your pantsy potting shed
Smells of ******.
Everything under the big tiny sky
Asks why, why do you even bother?
You only charm garlics.

There's a Quazooy on the loosey!
In my roomy there is. No fooey.
No fooey a Quazooy, loosey, really?
What's the Quazooy do-y?
Silly Quazooy dancey on deskies.
Dancey, Nancy, fancy pantsies!

Quazooy, want somey Tutti fruity?
Snooty Quazooy no eaty fruity.
What do-y Quazooy wanty?
"No eaty," said droopy Quazooy.
Quazooy sicky? Have the fluy?

"Quazooy no more fancy Dancey.
Quazooey needy tummy rubby."
Awe-y, cutie Quazooy no more dancey,
no eaty fruity, likey tummy rubby.
Now Quazooey tummy grumbly,
Facey lookies redy and crumbly.

Few wee! Quazooey now I knowy!
No more desky fancy dacey,
Not Tutti fruity, 'cause youy
wenty tooty in your pantsies!
Now Quazooy once morey dancey.
Fancy Nacey pantsy dancey.
Luvy Quazooy nowy not ooyie!