A Patter Song

There was a cranky Governor--
His name it wasn't Waterman.
For office he was hotter than
The love of any lover, nor
Was Boruck's threat of aiding him
Effective in dissuading him--
This pig-headed, big-headed, singularly self-conceited Governor Nonwaterman.

To citrus fairs, et c�tera,
He went about philandering,
To pride of parish pandering.
He knew not any better--ah,
His early education had
Not taught the abnegation fad--
The wool-witted, bull-witted, fabulously feeble-minded king of gabble-gandering!

He conjured up, ad libitum,
With postures energetical,
One day (this is prophetical)
His graces, to exhibit 'em.
He straddled in each attitude,
Four parallels of latitude--
The slab-footed, crab-footed, galloping gregarian, of presence un�sthetical!
An ancient cow, perceiving that
His powers of agility
Transcended her ability
(A circumstance for grieving at)
Upon her horns engrafted him
And to the welkin wafted him--
The high-rolling, sky-rolling, hurtling hallelujah-lad of peerless volatility!