Source: Horntip Collection - Half-Mind Hymnal 2011

Lyrics

With apologies to William S. Gilbert & Sir Arthur Sullivan By Flying Booger

On a fork in the trail a poor lost half-mind Blew “Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!” And I said to him, “Hasher, are you in a bind Blowing ‘Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle?’” “Is it scarceness of powder, dear hasher?” I cried, “Or a lack of good beer in your thirsty inside?” With a shake of his poor weary head, he replied, “Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”

He followed false trail, till he came to the shore, Blowing “Whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!” And a cold perspiration came out of his pores, Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle! He sobbed and he sighed, and an “Are you?” he gave, Then he plunged himself into the billowing wave, And an echo arose from his watery grave - “Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”

Now I feel just as sure as I’m sure that I blow Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle, That ‘twas lack of true trail that did make him go “Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!” And if you refrain from more flour to lay, I Shall perish as he did, and you will know why, Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die, “Oh, whistle, tweetwhistle, tweetwhistle!”