Songs of Fairly Utter Despair VI

Of all the idiots that abound Above, beneath, and on the ground. The blinking squirrel is to me The deepest-sunk in idiocy —

He builds himself a catacomb Among the worms, and calls it home, And there he cowers, sore afraid Of bird and beast and man and maid, And when, at last, he leaves his rut, His goal is just another nut.