Fifteen birds in five firtrees, 
their feathers were fanned in a fiery breeze! 
But, funny little birds, they had no wings! 
O what shall we do with the funny little things? 
Roast 'em alive, or stew them in a pot; 
Fry them, boil them and eat them hot? 
Burn, burn tree and fern! 
Shrivel and scorch! 
fizzling torch 
To light the night for our delight, 
Ya hey! Bake and toast 'em, 
Fry and roast 'em!
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