Oh, dear, oh, my,
'Tis quite the mess,
Come take a look, you'll never guess.
The perfect sight to make you sober,
It looks like Hell has frozen over.
The stalagmites have fallen down,
There's not a flame here to be found.
The ice is cold, the floor is wet,
My trident's stale, I'm quite upset.
My toes are blue, my breath is clear fog,
I can't seem to find my three-headed dog.
I've caught a cold, I slipped and fell,
It's quite nefaurious here in Hell.
So if you know someone who's knack for cold,
Don't wait 'till they're dry, wrinkled and old.
Walk up to them, and straight-forward yell,
"You can merrily hippitty-hop straight to hell!"
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