Schnee, schnee, beautiful schnee,
Stuck to each hedgerow and roof peak and tree,
It ain't goin' to stop 'til it's over my knee!
It's the schnee, the beautiful schnee.
It ain't goin' to stop 'til it's over my knee!
It's the schnee, the beautiful schnee.
Mister Weatherman I wonder, wouldst riddle me this?
And please answer promptly, before I get pissed
You foresaw, last report, only rain and some mist.
Now I'm up to my butt in wet schnee!
And please answer promptly, before I get pissed
You foresaw, last report, only rain and some mist.
Now I'm up to my butt in wet schnee!
"Pardon me, poem writer, a question for thee!
We are looking at snow, yet you're calling it "schnee"?"
"I'll answer that question in manner laconic,
The word still means "snow" if your speech is Teutonic!"
We are looking at snow, yet you're calling it "schnee"?"
"I'll answer that question in manner laconic,
The word still means "snow" if your speech is Teutonic!"
Schnee, schnee, bee-yoot-tee-ful schnee
I write my name in it when I need to pee
A skill set passed down from my father to me
Beware you don't eat yellow schnee!
I write my name in it when I need to pee
A skill set passed down from my father to me
Beware you don't eat yellow schnee!
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