Pure Kaklort

Sometimes when the world is all squiggly

And the sky in the clouds is rapt

The shadows all around flempt out your name
Flempting until the narwhals come home

In these times face down in yokk

Covered with pain of nersu bites
The feeling of bambliness abides in your soul

Rambling and bambling like a pack of geese

Sometimes in the days of adanting
With bowls of yax in your hands
The tops of carrots seem to reeve and try
Reeving into the sands of time

In these times you must remember pegog
And the nisk sauce you put on it
The unified frink has a glow around its core
Grab a hold of the frinks and iddle away

At all times you can dwelz in the mud

Mirsking your arms through the light

The tidings of coxtaran will always be there

March in the parade of taran's daughters

Then and only then will your hanrag be free
Dancing with jaru in the morning fog
The great babble of quarbnine aloud
A happy bunch of quarbnine is pure kaklort