The One About the Booger
copyright 2001 by Tim Griffin
Little Billy picked his nose
Despite the good advice of those
Who knew the awful consequences
Of abusing the olfactory senses.
It seemed that he was always sticking
Fingers in his nose and picking
Out whatever he found in there.
His friends complained; he didn’t care.
I guess poor Billy didn’t know
About the monsters which can grow
To frightful size inside your snout
If you don’t keep your fingers out!
He picked and flicked his boogers green
His parents said it was obscene
To see a child behave this way
But still he picked, until one day
He put a finger in to find
Whatever he had left behind
When he had picked his nose before
(It seems there’s always just one more)
But this time it was not the same:
Billy felt an awful pain!
The finger which he had inserted
Was bitten off; and how it hurted!
Just as Billy’s friends had known,
The monster in his nose had grown
To such enormous size that it
Was cramped in there, and so it bit.
You should have heard him scream and shout!
He could not get his finger out
No matter how he tried and tried;
The monster pulled his hand inside!
No sooner had it got his fist
Than the creature pulled in Billy’s wrist.
The children all watched in alarm
As Billy’s nose sucked in his arm!
I told my little sister, run!
Go find a phone, call nine one one!
But soon it got up to his shoulder
And we knew poor Billy would get no older.
By the time the paramedics came
It was much too late: they’d seem the same
Thing happen many times to those
Poor girls and boys who pick their nose.
So we built a little statue there
In Billy’s name, and that is where
What’s left of Billy now reposes:
A warning to those who pick their noses!
One friend heard this song and said, “Congratulations. Shel Silverstein meets Hannibal Lector.” I have made so many small children cry with this song that I usually don’t perform it anymore except by request.
Strangely, the children almost always request it.