Monday, March 10, 2008

Spring, I can feel you in the air!

::Sigh:: How I love the change of seasons. I see the chipmunks scurrying; the robins and blue jays scraping up the worms. I have the best sunny spot in the house to soak it all in. All this nature blooming in front of me, mixed with the feeling of springtime, reminds me of a song I heard my human listening to once. Let me tell you, after hearing the lyrics, I would love to shake the hand of the composer, Mr. Tom Lehrer you are number one in my book! Pigeons are rats with wings. My fellow friends, here are the inspiring lyrics that often bring a tear to my eye. Please enjoy.


Poisoning Pigeons in the Park

by Tom Lehrer

Here is a song all about springtime in general, and in particular about one of the many delightful pastimes that the coming of spring affords us all.
Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
I do, don't you? 'Course you do.
But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me,
And makes every Sunday a treat for me.

All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.
Every Sunday you'll see
My sweetheart and me,
As we poison the pigeons in the park.

When they see us coming, the birdies all try an' hide,
But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.
The sun's shining bright,
Everything seems all right,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.

We've gained notoriety,
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With our games.
They call it impiety
And lack of propriety,
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant names.
But it's not against any religion
To want to dispose of a pigeon.

So if Sunday you're free,
Why don't you come with me,
And we'll poison the pigeons in the park.
And maybe we'll do
In a squirrel or two,
While we're poisoning pigeons in the park.

We'll murder them all amid laughter and merriment,
Except for the few we take home to experiment.
My pulse will be quickenin'
With each drop of strych'nine
We feed to a pigeon.
(It just takes a smidgin!)
To poison a pigeon in the park.

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