Dreams of the Pied Piper with a hundred pipes a piping
His tunes bright and perky from the piping of the pipes.
A roomful of blindfolded monkeys on typewriters typing
Not producing a thing, they're just not the typing types...
Out on the greensward, are many trumpeting trumpets
While my lady and I sit down to our tea and crumpets
Away from all the noise, while trumpets keep on blaring;
The line of trumpeters trying hard to keep their bearing...
Piccolos are scattering notes down the shaded sidewalk.
Silver slide trombones oompa through their slidetalk....
And I wish you could hear the drums bringing up the rear,
Yes, me and my lady, we come here every year...........