The good old reliable New Song Fest has

The Dying Fisherman's Song

It was midnight on the ocean, not a streetcar was in sight;
While the sun was shining brightly, for it had rained all the night.
'Twas a summer's day in winter, and the rain was snowing fast,
As the barefoot girl with shoes on stood there sitting in the grass.

It was evening and the sunrise was just setting in the west;
And the fishes in the treetops were all cuddled in their nests.
As the wind was blowing bubbles, lightning shot from left to right;
Everything that you could see had been hidden out of sight.

While the organ peeled potatoes, lard was rendered by the choir;
When the sexton rang the dishrag, someone set the church on fire.
"Holy Smokes!" the preacher shouted, as he madly tore his hair,
Now his head resembles heaven, for there is no parting there.

*

You dencink?
You eskink?
I'm eskink if you're dencink.
I'm dencink if you're eskink.
So I'm eskink.
So I'm dencink.

*

Spring is coming.
He is?
Not "He is", "It is".
It is what?
It is coming.
What is coming?
Spring is coming.
He is?