When grandpa was in the army
And the Captain called "barrage"
He wrapped his whiskers round himself
And called it camouflage.

When grandpa goes a-fishing
No fishing line needs he
He throws his whiskers in the lake
And pulls out two or three.

When grandpa goes to breakfast
And there's nothing left to eat
He dips his whiskers in the milk
And calls it shreaded wheat.

The official Troop 78 Songbook
www.octoraro.org/~arles/sounds/Songs.doc