A Patter Song

There was a cranky Governor His name it wasn't Waterman. For office he was hotter than The love of any lover, nor Was Boruck's threat of aiding him Effective in dissuading him This pig-headed, big-headed, singularly self-conceited Governor Nonwaterman. To citrus fairs, _et caetera_, He went about philandering, To pride of parish pandering. He knew not any better-ah, His early education had Not taught the abnegation fad The wool-witted, bull-witted, fabulously feeble-minded king of gabble-gandering! He conjured up, _ad libitum_, With postures energetical, One day (this is prophetical) His graces, to exhibit 'em. He straddled in each attitude, Four parallels of latitude The slab-footed, crab-footed, galloping gregarian, of presence unaesthetical! An ancient cow, perceiving that His powers of agility Transcended her ability (A circumstance for grieving at) Upon her horns engrafted him And to the welkin wafted him The high-rolling, sky-rolling, hurtling hallelujah-lad of peerless volatility!