The chorus frogs in the big lagoon Would sing their songs to the silvery moon. Tenor singers were out of place, For every frog was a double bass. But never a human chorus yet Could beat the accurate time they set. The solo singer began the joke; He sang, "As long as I live I'll croak, Croak, I'll croak," And the chorus followed him: "Croak, croak, croak!"
The poet frog, in his plaintive tone, Sang of a sorrow was all his own; "How shall I win to my heart's desire? How shall I feel my spirit's fire?" And the solo frog in his deepest croak, "To fire your spirit," he sang, "eat coke, Coke, eat coke," And the chorus followed him: "Coke, coke, coke!"
The green frog sat in a swampy spot And he sang the song of he knew not what. "The world is rotten, oh cursed plight, That I am the frog that must set it right. How shall I scatter the shades that lurk?" And the old man bullfrog sang, "Get work, Work, get work," And the chorus followed him: "Work, work, work!"
The soaring spirits that fain would fly On wings of hope to the starry sky Must face the snarls of the jealous dogs, For the world is ruled by its chorus frogs.