Camp Songs

T.T.T.O. A small cup of wine

They mispronounce words, they've got the tune wrong
About half the kids aren't singing along
It's the worst performance that I've ever heard
I'm standing here looking absurd

There is a kid over there, picking his ear
And that one looks like he's not really all here
It took me three day, to decide on the words
What a waste of time for these nerds

The trouble with camp songs, I have to admit
Is that the words to the Niggun are usually such a completely terrible fit
Nobody but nobody, takes the time to make sure
That the English ain't not real poor

Oh, sometimes I try to cram too many words into the one line
Or too few at a time
I utilize terms I do not apprehend
And rhymes that don't fit the poem

I must mention the Grand-Sing, the Circus-Day
The things that your counselor used to say
I must refer to the pool, the sun
And write SMILE BABY WE WON!

Oh they'll never write a Niggun, which did stick to one tense
Zog Gornish in Yiddish, or made complete sense
I'm sorry Gan Izzy to say this to you
But every word I've written is true