I find it hard to believe that Little Hawk isn't so deeply involved in (shudder!) pengy lust that he's missed this song:

Penguin Lust

Consider the penguin relaxing in slumber,
all snug in his bed on a cold winter's night:
his cares are forgotten now; nothing encumbers
his avian dreams of exquisite delight ...

He's dreaming of flying on gossamer wings,
of drowsing on sun-dappled tropical beaches,
debating philosophers, poets, and kings
who listen in awe to the wisdom he teaches;
of singing La Scala by public demand;
of waking next morning well rested and tanned ...

But then with a start he awakes to discover
that penguins don't have fairy godmothers yet;
instead, he has sisters who look like their brothers
and a stunning physique he would sooner forget.

He glides like a brick floating over the ocean;
there's snow in his undershorts, ice on his tail,
a voice that makes cats wonder "what's the commotion?"
and the vast erudition of J. Danforth Quayle.
In fact, on considering, life is so vile,
there's only one thing that makes living worthwhile:

    it's penguin lust! Penguin lust!
    It's a penguin's hope and faith and trust.
    It's a penguin's only credo:
    underneath that black tuxedo
    lurks a fiery libido
    driven to exceed --
    it's penguin lust! Penguin lust,
    reacting to a world that's so unjust!
    But somewhere in that wild defiance
    lurks the hope that someday, science
    will invent some new appliance
    that will help him fly ... that's penguin lust.

Consider the penguin in search of his dinner,
consulting the menu at Top of the Mark:
observe that his waistline is not getting thinner
eating polar bear potage or filet of shark.
His vices are legend, his lusts are perverse;
he cannot be sated, nor ever contented.
His taste runs the gamut from awful to worse:
all sorts of depravity not yet invented.
His immoral appetite knows no restraint;
it makes senators ill and evangelists faint:

    it's penguin lust! Penguin lust!
    Makes strong men cringe and shudder with disgust!
    It's so vile that if you're in it,
    God may strike you down this minute.
    There should be a law agin' it --
    it's a mortal sin;
    it's penguin lust! Penguin lust!
    His psyche's far too twisted to adjust!
    His immodesty upstages
    vices awful to outrageous --
    I sure hope it ain't contagious...
    Nothing can assuage it, penguin lust!
    No, nothing can assuage it, penguin lust!

© Copyright 1992, Elton Wildermuth

(does this qualify this thread for Above The Salt status?)