Eenie-meanie wurble schplit.
My stomach rumbles as I sit.
Though I’ll never get to eat
If I don’t move my legs and feet.
Ingle wingle garble floop,
I could scoff a bowl of soup.
I could even nuke a lobster bisque and
Say to hell with the all risk.
Heeby jeeby tartle flip,
Would someone go on a little trip?
Because I don’t think that I am able
To purchase food for my dining table.
Ingle wingle farty plop
Would you folk help me to stop!
All this nonsense and I’m with’rin’ away.
These may be the last words I say…
Flappy flippy warty bus,
This is now getting ridiculous!
Sod it all, I’m off t’ot shop.
With a slouch. No skip. No hop.