I want you to meet a fellow
With plaster pants, who lives in France
Who sits in someone's garden
With slimy slugs, and other bugs
Screaming, dreaming
That he was free

He had a painted smile
And a green toadstool, looked quite the fool
He wished the soldier gnomes would come
And set him free, woe is me
Scanning, planning
Out his revenge

So next day--hurray!
They came and took him far away
IIIIIIII'll saaaaaaaaaayyyy

Look at his tank, look at his rifle
Doesn't it rule?
Look at boots, look at his helmet
No more a fool
Romping, stomping
Off to the fight!

But he couldn't cope--lost hope
And hanged himself with gnomish rope
Straaaaaaaiiiight dooooope
Straaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiight dooope!

--Mbo