Some fellows had some hearty sips
Of whiskey-spiked insecticide
Both poisons trickled through their lips
They cried a lot, and then they died.
And their fresh tears absurdly fell
Upon the ground where insects hide
Those insects, in their soggy hell
Ate tear-stained dirt, and promptly died.
Then five echidnas ate the ants
That had the poisoned dirt imbibed
But they wore anti-poison pants
Echidunot! So they survived.
