There's a Bug-eyed male protester on the roof of CUK,
There's a little girls that posts there with a frown;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Brillo,
And the Ferret God forever gazes down.
He was known as "Mad Brillo" by the guys at CUK,
He was madder than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And Jolly's granny smiled on him as well.
He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly sixty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Brillo;
They met next day as he dismissed a thread;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Ferret God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Brillo seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned before the dawn, with his Batman suit all torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And Jolly's granny watched beside his bed.
He woke at last and asked if they could send his outfit through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Mad Brillo,"
And she found the little green eye of the god.
She upbraided poor Brillo in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn't take the stone and Mad Brillo was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the forum square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.
His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Brillo,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Ferret God."
There's a Bug-eyed yellow idol to the north of CUK,
There's a little girls that posts there with a frown;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Brillo,
And the Ferret God forever gazes down.
There's a little girls that posts there with a frown;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Brillo,
And the Ferret God forever gazes down.
He was known as "Mad Brillo" by the guys at CUK,
He was madder than they felt inclined to tell;
But for all his foolish pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks,
And Jolly's granny smiled on him as well.
He had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearly sixty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.
He wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Brillo;
They met next day as he dismissed a thread;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But the green eye of the little Ferret God.
On the night before the dance, Mad Brillo seemed in a trance,
And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars:
But for once he failed to smile, and he sat alone awhile,
Then went out into the night beneath the stars.
He returned before the dawn, with his Batman suit all torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day,
And Jolly's granny watched beside his bed.
He woke at last and asked if they could send his outfit through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Mad Brillo,"
And she found the little green eye of the god.
She upbraided poor Brillo in the way that women do,
Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet;
But she wouldn't take the stone and Mad Brillo was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.
When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the forum square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.
His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Brillo,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Ferret God."
There's a Bug-eyed yellow idol to the north of CUK,
There's a little girls that posts there with a frown;
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Brillo,
And the Ferret God forever gazes down.
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