When Father Rode the Goat
The house is full of arcana, and mystery profound
We do not dare to run about or make the slightest sound.
We leave the big piano shut and do not strike a note
the doctor's been here seven times since father rode the goat.
He joined the lodge a week ago Got in at 4:00 a.m.
And sixteen brethren brought him home, though he says that he brought them.
His wrist was sprained and one big rip had rent his Sunday coat
There must have been a lively time when father rode the goat.
He's resting on the couch today! And practicing his signs
The hailing signal, the working grip, and other monkeyshines
He mutters passwords 'neath his breath, And other things he'll quote
They surely had an evening's work when father rode the goat.
He has a gorgeous uniform, all gold and red and blue
A hat with plumes and yellow braid, And golden badges too.
But, somehow, when we mention it, he wears a look so grim
we wonder if he rode the goat or if the goat rode him!
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