There’s a tiny marching band in my head.
They wear little blue hats and play little blue drums that go a-boom boom boom and a-clap clap clap. And on the little blue hats are little blue rats that snap to the beat, they a-snap snap snap; rat-a-tat-tat. And the little blue men, they stomp stomp stomp, they clomp clomp clomp; and the little blue rats, they a-chomp chomp chomp. “Ouch ouch ouch!” shout the little blue men, as they clomp and they stomp and they stamp and they clap. “Please stop chomping, that chomping, that awful chomp chomp chomp, or we’ll snatch you up and a-stomp stomp stomp, all over you tiny little rut rut ruts, until the ground is a-soaked with your gut gut guts. But the ruts, they don’t listen to those ouch ouches, those shout shout-es, they just bite bite bite, full of spite spite spite, as the men a-cry-a and a-sigh-a at their plight plight plight. And so the men snatch up the little rut-a-tat-tuts, they snatch them, yes they snatch them all uppity up. And the ruts, they a-wriggle, they a-jiggle, they struggle and scut, but that doesn’t help them; they’re snatched uppity up. Now they a-cry-a, they a-sigh-a, they shout ouch ouch ouch: “Oh please don’t stomp us, please don’t clomp us, please don’t gobble us up! We won’t chomp, we won’t bite, we won’t snap or clap or rat-a-tat-tat! We’ll even stay off your little blue hats!” But the men, they don’t listen to those ouch ouches, those shout shout-es, at the ruts’ plight plight plight. They won’t sigh or a-cry, they’re full of spite spite spite. And so they snatch snatch snatch the little rut-a-tut-tums, and throw throw throw them onto their little blue drums.
And the rats go snap: snap snap snap.
And the marching band wears their little blue hats, and play their little blue drums, that go a-boom boom boom, and a-clap clap clap.