The Midnight Ride of Walter Durst, 1971

Listen my children while you ride in your hearse,
Of the midnight ride of Walter Durst,
It was 19 hundred and 71,
The moon had risen on the setting sun.


It was four o'clock in the afternoon,
The old lady was swatting the fly with her broom,
It couldn't be found,
The king put on his crown.


Now, back to the story.


Walter Durst had a horse,
Of course,
He came to a house,
Someone called him a louse.


He cried and cried,
Through all his eyes,
Thus ends the tale of Walter Durst,
Who happens to be the worst person who ever had his bubble burst.