He took the bookcase and rode forth, anon! Anon!
The weary snowman didn’t know the lighthouse quipped a canon,
His poor frozen headaches,
Riding downhill, every chance he takes,
To protect the sacred cookbook he swore,
In this daylight snowstorm downpour.
Headstrong he dove into the flashlight,
Often considered sunlight,
Boom, boom pow! As the snowflakes rode with thunder,
The children’s heads filled with wonder,
This is the Ballad of the brave snowman down-under.