with mighty old hands
A often times he moved them to bossoms
making females push him to mud
Yet Mr Cataraski was just acting out
For you see the other monkeys
Oh the other monkeys
They were not to true
They feigned being lovely
Bringing sweets and hard whiskey
Until they realized his need to be clean
Oh Mr Cataraski if only they knew
the symptoms in mud make you flictoo
You haven't heard of fictoo?
How crazy of your bazoo
For you see dearest maiden or are you a gent?
There is no popsicle that can cure Cataraski's lopicle
There is no bar of chocolate to stop his zhocoloate
For you see dearest gentmaiden he is but a babboon
It reminds him too much of the twosies the other babboons toss at his face
He spends his days cleaning it away
So every time the other monkeys pick on him by throwing him into mud
So now every time they make him brown he throws wet wipes at their hair and when
they try to take them off
they clean themselves
Now to you this may not sound like much revenge
But it was all Cataraski needed to dance in life
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