A skeeter's life just really sucks
Your Deet perfumes my every day
You people are such awful schmucks
But I've got lots of kids to raise
My larvae squirm and long to fly
But they need protein milkshakes
To see their future touch the sky
I slurp up your blood shakes
As I fly by I sing by choice
"Winner, winner; mammal dinner".
In my high nasal skeeter voice
I get fat and you get thinner
But swatting, slapping and the like
Have rattled all my schemes
Now I just sit and hide my spike
I can't take all your screams
Ha, Ha, Sucker, you wish
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem