Id like to take you now on wings of song, as it were, and try and help you forget perhaps for a while your drab, wretched lives. heres a song all about spring-time in general, and in particula
Out one of the many delightful pastimes the coming of spring affords us all.
Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
I do, dont you? course you do.
But theres one thing that makes spring complete for me,
And makes evry sunday a treat for me.
All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon,
When were poisoning pigeons in the park.
Evry sunday youll see
My sweetheart and me,
As we poison the pigeons in the park.
When they see us coming, the birdies all try an hide,
But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.
The suns shining bright,
Evrything seems all right,
When were poisoning pigeons in the park.
Lalaalaalalaladoodiedieedoodoodoo
Weve gained notoriety,
And caused much anxiety
In the audubon society
With our games.
They call it impiety,
And lack of propriety,
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant names.
But its not against any religion
To want to dispose of a pigeon.
So if sunday youre free,
Why dont you come with me,
And well poison the pigeons in the park.
And maybe well do
In a squirrel or two,
While were poisoning pigeons in the park.
Well murder them all amid laughter and merriment.
Except for the few we take home to experiment.
My pulse will be quickenin
With each drop of strychnine
We feed to a pigeon.
It just takes a smidgin!
To poison a pigeon in the park.