As Tazzelworm.
My scaly skin was all of horn,
And fire I spit since I was born;
Whatever up the mountain came,
I killed and gobbled it for game,
As Tazzelworm.
But when I so forgot God's law,
And ate up shepherd maidens raw,
Came Noah's food, with all its fogs,
And knocked my business to the dogs,
As Tazzelworm.
And now you see me painted, shine
On Schweinesteiger's bran-new sign.
The shepherd maidens laugh in choir,
And not a mortal fears the fire
Of Tazzelworm.
And oft some learned chap will shout
Before my eyes: 'His games played out!
He lived before the flood washed round,
But men of science never found
A Tazzelworm.'
Weak-minded sceptic! enter here,
Mix up Tyróler wine and beer,
But ere you come to Kuffstein--whew!
You'll find that I have breathed on you,