This is the version I know from years at camp.


I'm up here in a nuthouse. My brain is in a rut
My keeper thinks I'm crazy But he's just off his nut
I'm just the same as you are and I can prove it too
Just listen to my lullaby And know I'm not cookoo

Oh, I was born one night, one morn When the whistles went boom boom
I can bake a steak or fry a cake When the mudpies are in bloom
Does six and six make nine? Does ice come from a mine?
Is old black Joe, an Eskimo In the good ol' summertime

Oh, they call me King Napoleon But I'm not him at all
For how can I be bonaparte when I'm from New St. Paul
I'll sue them all for slander. I'll make them all repent
For how can I be born abroad if I'm the president.

Oh, if Easter eggs don't wash their legs, their children will be ducks (quack, quack)
I'd rather have a lemon pie than 40 million bucks
In a town called Spimonia, Stick it right up your bonia
But that's a lot of bolognia. Pateroosky blow your horn (toot toot)