Well he started out
As a maggot child
Food was rough
Foul and vile
When the sun came up
On that fateful morn
He had quite enough
A thought was born
Our Ernie the fly
Had to leave that scene
Appetite
Needed finer things
Life is short on days
All flies will learn
And the finer foods
Made his palette yearn
Our Ernie the fly
Had to leave that scene
Flew around
Wanted best cuisine
So he took flight
To north side town
Saw some soup
Saw some soup
Flew right down
And the patron said
To maître
d'
“So why’s this fly
In my split pea?”
“He’s learning to swim,”
The waiter spoke
“Poor fly needs help
“Poor fly needs help
With back-stroke.”
Our Ernie the fly
Had a final meal
Drowned in soup
Drowned in soup
Should have had the veal.
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