Oh, my back, there! Oh, my wrist
What a twist!
What a sprain!
Frogs. Once again
We renew the tuneful strain—
Brekeke-kesh, koash, koash!
Bacchus. I disdain—hang the pain!—
All your nonsense, noise, and trash.
Oh, my blister! Oh, my sprain!
Frogs. Brekeke-kesh, koash, koash!