Song of the frog princess

Whisk me away to an old fashioned dance
where oldies jump high and move as in trance,
where frogs turn to princes when given the chance.
Whisk me away to an old fashioned dance.

Bounce me over a tumbleweed rock
where the lake is a mirror and frogs sit to croak,
where midges do headstands and gnats will provoke.
Bounce me over a tumbleweed rock.

Whistle me under the beaten old trees
where I kiss you as frog and you call me a tease,
where summer is all about honey and bees.
Whistle me under the beaten old trees.

Nibble my ears and wobble my hips
with marigold posies and honeysucked lips.
Where frogs sit in ardour and tell of their trips
nibble my ears and wobble my hips.

Pull up my blankets and switch off the light,
play water music to spangle the night.
Let me peep dreams to offer delight.
Pull up my blankets and switch off the light.