The Naaaaaaaaaarator:

Shy of a thrill, guy’s alone with goat urge
(Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh)
Now, there no joy, all alone with goat urge
(Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh)

Strokes can be found if he’s got sans-goat scourge
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!)
Lust steers him here to sack-bloat purge ’gote merge
(wh-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ack!))


The Flock:

Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh
Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh


The Naaaaaaaaaarator:

He’d diddle a kid, but he’d never shoat-splurge
(Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh)
First comes an ode, then explodes a goat dirge
(A-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-Agnus Dei)

Weeps. . .bad upkeep of his holey coat serge
(Threa-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-eadbare)
Wish that the guy’d do a buying-coat splurge
(O-o-o-o-o-o-or at least repair)

He has to fight off a growing shoat urge
(Oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oi-oink!)
Starts to attack ’cause of lack of goat-merge
(Dig-in-piggy, dig-in-piggy. Dig that pig!)

But as soooeeyn as he was on a shoat verge
(Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh)
From the bushes did a lonely goat ’merge
(Yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah!!)


The Flock:

Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh
Meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh


The Naaaaaaaaaarator:

Then up arose the post that men tote, turg-
i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-id
Set to ingress in a bonely goat surge
(I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-in)

Just then a man in a blue serge coat ’merged
(law-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw-aw!)
Clink. Then a shrink will get him goat-urge-purged
(Ta-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-alk)

He is released, ceases bonely goat urge
(Mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ock)
He bulges and indulges in goat surge
(Flo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ock)