"Oh, Schmendrick had a horse, and he thought it was a cow,
He went out to milk it but he didn't know how,
And the night was very dark and Schmendrick couldn't see. . . "
. . . and I think we'll just stop right there . . .
(to the tune of Sweet Bessie of Pike)
“Oh, moose, moose! I like a moose!
I’ve never had anything quite like a moose.
My life has been wicked, my morals are loose,
But ...”
... and I’ll stop there as well ...