Why oh why did an active volcano
Have to poke up its nose in our yard?
It goes gloop like a sink full of Drano
And it showers down rocks that hit hard.

From its crest you can gaze upon masses
Of boulders that bubble and seethe,
And it's giving off ghastly green gases
That nobody's able to breathe.

'Balls of fire!' Uncle Jack yells, jackknifing
Down into that smoldering cone,
'What a fine, steamy day to go diving!
Last one in is an old molten stone!'

Now each night with a cup of hot java,
Mother props up her feet, feeling snug
While she watches red rivers of lava
Roll over our living-room rug.