I'm angry! I'm setting their village on fire!

Why didn't they leave me and let me retire?

Those ornery folk got me mighty upset

'cause they hauled off and murdered my Jabberwock pet.

I'll bet it was Billy, that kid with the sword.

I'll gimble that vorpal thing right down his gourd.

That villainous butcher made off with his head

so I might have to get me a puppy instead.

I found little Jabber when he was just three.

His claws were caught up in an old Tumtum tree.

I couldn't just leave him to fight and to fend

so I lopped off the branches and made him my friend.

I'm glad when a new opportunity comes.

An ogre like me doesn't have many chums.

The friendliest beast I've been able to catch

is a rare Jubjub bird for my pet bandersnatch.

It's been a few years since I've been down the hill.

That town never showed me an ounce of goodwill.

I promised those peasants I'd leave them alone

but I think I'll just roll down a big Tulgey stone.

I'll give them a landslide that swallows their town.

I'll sneeze and I'll spit till their borogoves drown.

I'll snicker and snack till their mimsies turn blue

and I'll whiffle their houses and holler "callooh!"

But why should I bother to punish those hicks?

I'm getting too old to perform all these tricks.

They're due, anyway, for a slithy surprise

when at brillig today Jabber's head multiplies.

A Jabber will grow from each burbling hair.

That mythical Hydra can't even compare.

Each terrified peasant will lock his front door

when their village is crawling with Jabbers galore!

They'll look for my cave and they'll fall on their knees

and they'll say they can't tolerate creatures like these.

And being the frumious ogre I am

I'll just stomp on their toves and I'll tell them to scram!