When I was an little bitty gator,
My Mamma would toss me in a crater.
I crawled back out to find something to chomp.
But I couldn’t get a waiter,
So I told them, “Later.”
Wound up taking a romp right through the swamp.
I tried to think of happier thoughts,
True love, Christmas or ice cream cones.
They couldn’t compete with the sheer delight,
Of Sammy chomping on alligator bones.