Have a hoppy, frothy blitzed fest,
It's the best time when there's beer.
Don't want blow or ice or snow,
So soak suds, soma's sere.*

Have a hoppy, frothy Blitz** fest.
So you can walk on the street,
Don't let blow, pistolero,
Heater aimed at your feet.

Uh oh! You're missing toes,
Of some you've been freed.
You've now got eight. . .lost two.
Kickball's not your speed.

Had a hoppy, shot-feet blitzed fest,
Soon ambulance will draw near.
"Good golly, Miss Molly,
Jolly haul-me medic sips beer!"


*soma: body; sere: dry
**Brand of beer