POKE

[Photo: Wikipedia. Caption: Elisson.]

Early each day to the edge of the woods
The little old bear-baiter comes
He doesn’t have too many worldly goods
On account of his fondness for rum
“Come buy one of my sticks
They’re for poking the bears
And you’ll be glad if you do
To inflict pain on ursines
Will ease most of your cares
All it takes is two bucks from you
Poke the bears, two bucks a stick
Two bucks, two bucks, two bucks a stick
Poke the bears,” that’s what he cries
While overhead, forest trees fill the skies

Wherever you go, the SPCA
Looks down on the bear-baiter’s stick
Although you can’t see ’em
You know they’re not smiling
They know the poor bastard is sick

Though his words are simple and few
Listen, listen, he’s calling to you
“Poke the bears, two bucks a stick
Two bucks, two bucks, two bucks a stick”

[Apologies to the Sherman Brothers.]