a song

Each skull cracking, cracking, cracking,
As we see the heads are yacking,
On the motorway they're driving
In the dark.

I said: "Sail, sail, shlapping,
Can't you see the mainstay flapping?
And the people all are quacking
For a roll.

"Let them have it!" We, I'd say,
And then on another day,
We'd eat king and queen and knave
While being saved;

Yet we're napping, napping, napping,
As the Easter Hunt is slapping
At the holes within our yacking;
Keep us back from water's edge.