A slight variation that my father (born in 1917) used to sing to me. My mother always said that as an infant with colic, the only thing that would soothe me was my dad laying my belly on top of his while he sang:

There was a man named Dunderbak,
invented a machine,
It was for grinding sausage meat,
and it would run by steam,
for little cats and long tailed rats,
no more they will be seen,
for they were ground to sausage meat,
in Dunderbak's machine.

One day a little boy came in,
to Dunderbak's big store,
there was a pile of sausage meat,
a-lying on the floor,
and while he was a-waiting,
he whistled up a tune,
the sausage meat began to skip,
and run around the room.

Oh Dunderbak oh dunderbak,
how could you be so mean,
someday you'll be so sorry,
you invented that machine,
for little cats and long tailed rats,
no more they will be seen,
for they were ground to sausage meat,
in Dunderbak's machine.

Something was out of order,
that machine it would not go,
so Dunderbak he crawled inside,
to find it out you know,
his wife got all excited,
she got up in her sleep,
she turned the crank and,
turned old Dunderbak to sausage meat.

One day a little boy came in,
to Dunderbak's big store,
there was a pile of sausage meat,
a-lying on the floor,
and while he was a-waiting,
he whistled up a tune,
the sausage meat began to skip,
and run around the room.

Oh Dunderbak oh dunderbak,
how could you be so mean,
for now I'll be you're sorry,
you invented that machine,
for little cats and long tailed rats,
no more they will be seen,
for they were ground to sausage meat,
in Dunderbak's machine.