Frogs

They will hide in every crevice, in any urn, or keg.
If you stand still for a second, they'll be crawling up your leg.
And the stench that develops can leave you agog.
For the air is foul with droppings, and the streets are soaked with gore,
As they're tossed from open windows on the third and second floor.
And what is the sound of a plummeting frog?
It's a sickening flap like a rock in a bog.
They scare the pets and clog the drain. The cow licked one and went insane.

Those friggin' frogs.
Those fraggin' frogs.
Those friggin' fraggin' friggin' fraggin'

Frogs in every shape and size that stare with nictitating eyes.
They croak their endless monologues - those friggin' frogs.
If I offend then please forgive my liberal use of expletive.
The friggin' frogs
Frogs

Splat goes another toadie spraying entrails on your boots,
As they're crowded off the rooftops by a wave of new recruits.
To call it a plague isn't nearly enough.
I've heard all the explanations, and I've done what they suggest,
But the changes to my lifestyle are unbearable at best.
I've gnawed on their legs 'til I long to throw up.
When I comfort my wife, they abruptly disrupt.
And the racket never seems to stop. Do they ever rest? Apparently not.

Those friggin' frogs.
Those fraggin' frogs.
They frig. They frag. They frig. They frag.

Despite the hype, the fact remains we're drowning in amphibiains.
It's not just pouring cats or dogs, it's raining frogs.
It's plain to see we've reached a state where one cannot exaggerate.
It's raining frogs.

Frogs in every shape and size that stare with nictitating eyes.
They croak their endless monologues - those friggin' frogs.
If I offend then please forgive my liberal use of expletive.
The friggin' frogs
Frogs

For nearly a fortnight I've gone without sleep,
While eternally blissful they bellow in heat,
Then climb on each other and mate while they hop.
The result is a slimy gelatinous glop.
The cistern and the watering holes are swarmed with slithery taddly poles.
Those friggin', fraggin', friggin, fraggin',...

Frogs in every shape and size that stare with nictitating eyes.
They croak their endless monologues - those friggin' frogs.
If I offend then please forgive my liberal use of expletive.
The friggin' frogs
Frogs

Despite the hype, the fact remains we're drowning in amphibiains.
It's not just pouring cats or dogs, it's raining frogs.
It's plain to see we've reached a state where one cannot exaggerate.
It's raining frogs.
Frogs