Well, right a-bout that time, peo-ple,
a fur-trap-per who was strict-ly from com-mer-cial...
had the un-med-i-cat-ed au-dac-i-ty to jump up
from be-hind my ig-ya-loo
and he start-ed in-to whip-pin' on my fav-'rite ba-by seal
with a lead-filled snow-shoe...
I said: a, with a lead
filled,
a, lead-filled snow-shoe
He said, "Peak-a-boo."
with a lead
filled,
with a lead filled snow shoe.
He said, "Peak-a-boo- oo."
He went right up side the head of my fav-'rite ba-by seal,
he went, "Whap!" with a lead-filled snow-shoe.
An' he hit him on the nose 'n he hit him on the fin 'n he...
An' that got me just a-bout as e-vil as an Es-ki-mo boy can be...
so I bent down 'n I reached down 'n I scooped down
an' I gath-ered up a gen-er-ous mit-ten full of the dead-ly...
The dead-ly yel-low snow
from right there where the hus-kies go.
Where-up-on I pro-ceed-ed to take that mit-ten full of the dead-ly yel-low snow crys-tals and rub it all in-to his bead-y lit-tle eyes with a vig-or-ous cir-cu-lar mo-tion hith-er-to un-know to the peo-ple in this ar-e-a, but des-tined-to take the place of the mud shark in your my-thol-o-gy.
Here it goes now...
the cir-cu-lar mo-tion...
Rub it!
And then, in a fit of an-ger, I, I pounced and I pounced a-gain.
Great Goo-gl-y Moo-gl-y!
I jumped up 'n down the chest of the
I in-jured the fur trap-per.
Well, he was ver-y up-set, as you can un-der-satnd.
And right-ly so, be-cause the dead-ly yel-low snow crys-tals had de-prived him of his sight.
And he stood up and he looked a-round and he said: "I can't see.
I can't see.
Oh, woe is me.
I can't see."
No, no.
I can't see.
Wha?
I.
He took a dog- doo sno-cone an' stuffed it in my right eye.
He took a dog- doo sno-cone an' stuffed it in my oth-er eye.
An' the hus-kie wee-wee,
I mean the dog-gie wee-wee has blind-ed me
an' I can't see tem-po-rar-i-ly.
Well, that fur trap-per stood there with his arms out-stretched a-cross the fro-zen white waste-land, try-ing to fig-ure out what he's gon-na do a-bout his de-flict-ed eyes. And it was at that pre-cise mo-ment that he re-mem-bered an an-cient Es-ki-mo leg-end where-in, it is writ-ten, on what-ev-er it is that they write it on up there, that if an-y-thing bad ev-er hap-pens to your eyes as a re-sult of some sort of con-flict with an-y-one named Na-nook, the on-ly way you can get it fixed up is to go trudg-in' a-cross the tun-dra... mile af-ter mile! Trudg-in' a-cross the tun-dra... right down to the par-ish of Saint Al-fon-zo.
Strict-ly com-mer-shil.
Peek-a-boo, woo, woo, woo.
Lead,
lead-filled
snow-shoe.
"Peek-a-boo."
Lead,
lead-filled
snow-shoe.
"Peek- a-boo."
Yel-low snow.
Here, Fi-do...
Here, Fi-do!
Ah, ah, ah ah.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.
Uh, ha, ha, ha!
Doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, yeah.
Doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, yeah.
Doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, yeah.
Doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, doh, well.
