Gway Wabbit

I couldn’t resist this—an Elmer Fudd version
of Jefferson Airplane’s song White Rabbit.
Just to make it easier to read, I wrote it in
normal English; only the word “wabbit” is Elmerese.

One trick sends you flying
And one trick makes you sprawl
After ten tricks from that wabbit
You just sit and caterwaul
Go ask Elmer while he sits and bawls

And if you go chase that wabbit
Don’t be shocked if anvils fall
And you find out your sole protection
Is a flimsy parasol
Go ask Elmer—he can barely crawl

When you meet strange men in the forest
And get directions where to go
From a wabbit in coat and mustache
You should consider moving slow
Go ask Elmer—he’ll tell you so

When your shotgun is spraying buckshot
In a sloppy hail of lead
And you’re certain you’ve killed that wabbit
Don’t ignore your growing dread
Remember what the Fudd man said
He’s not dead
He’s not dead
He’s not dead