The Wivluv River
Mith, Moth, mo.
Zumbles the Wivluv River,
And you know,
That though,
It said Mith, moth , mo.
It meant hello.
And so,
The Wivluv River,
Is living Sir,
And strivin' fer,
The Zoble Tops of Zye.
And you wonder why,
But it does sigh,
And dream of the Zoble Tops of Zye.
Which fly in the sky,
Which is something that it could never do.
Who?
Not you,
But the river of Wivluv,
Which gives love,
To the dove,
To send to the Zoble Tops of Zye.
And as it flows from the top of Zipple Zop Mount,
To the bottom of the valley of Zount.
And back again,
In the Ziver of River, of the sky.
Where it meets its love on high,
The wonderful Zoble Tops of Zye.
The Zoble Tops carry the Ziver of River,
Which carries the Wivluv above,
Up past the clouds, then back down on the mount,
Where it begins its journey once more,
Which to it is a bore,
Until it can soar, once more,
With the Zoble Tops of Zye.
