^Bo_ot_{s I}I^{: T}he S_{econd I}rrit_ation

Reprinted from Songworm 1
This parody was sung by Leslie Fish on Tapeworm 3

Parody of “Boots”, words by Rudyard Kipling , music by Leslie Fish

For more information and other parodies, see www.songworm.com
Parody lyrics ©1987-03-09 by Bob Kanefsky. All rights reserved. The copyright of the original lyrics and music remain with the holder(s) of the original copyright.

We’re

E bliss

, bliss, bliss, bliss, blistering our pseudopods.

E Bliss

, stir, stir, stir, blistering our p

Am seu

dopods.

Am Boots

, boots,

A7 boots

, boots

Dm weren’t

made for a

G l

iens.

There’s

C no

disc

G harge

from the

Am sore

.

Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t think about the searing pain. 
(Oh my gods, give me acetaminophen!) 
Boots, boots, boots, boots, blistering our pseudopods. 
There’s no discharge from the sore.

Count, count, count, count the tentacles your neighbor has. 
If your eyes drop, they will soon be trampled by those 
Boots, boots, boots, boots, blistering our pseudopods. 
There’s no discharge from the sore.

I have been to visit Earth and certify 
It is not their guns that will destroy us but these 
Boots, boots, boots, boots, blistering our pseudopods. 
There’s no discharge from the sore.