As a young lad I once was asked
Why I had not finished the math I was tasked
The question was accompanied by a rhetorical jibe
And insects in my clothing they begun to describe
So I answered as any good child should
In the affirmative as my imagination could
“Ants in my pants? Why yes, yes indeed.
But the gnu in my shoe is an interesting breed.
And other than that there’s a bat in my hat.
I’m not sure what to do, I’m just glad it’s no rat.
There’s some pest in my vest that’s squirming so,
I think the fox in my socks brought it in, don’t you know.
I won’t mention the bear in my…well you know…
But without them there I’d be bare too, so it goes.
My shirt? In my shirt there’s a squirt, from…octopi
Don’t get too close or you’ll get ink in your eye.
Then there’s the goat in my coat, but then he
Is out there on the hook just waiting for me.
So you see the ants aren’t all to my squirms.
I’m just on great big can of worms!”