WHEN Petey Potts was just your height
He picked his nose with all his might

He'd poke and pick and dig and root
His thumb lodged deep inside his snoot

With wrinkled face and one eye closed
Petey Potts explored his nose

He'd push and twist and scrape and route
Until, by gum, he dug one out.

He'd bore right through the runny stuff
To find the diamonds in the rough

He'd strain and prod — that little fool
Until he had the crowning jewel

He'd roll the big ones into a log
The little ones he fed the dog

He rolled those logs until — by huck
He had enough to fill a truck

And from his many logs of goo
He fashioned up a snot-canoe

He made himself some booger oars
And set adrift for distant shores

He paddled through the salty tide
His booger dog right by his side

But alas his booger boat
Was just not meant to stay afloat

The booger boat it broke apart
And so did Petey's booger heart

He tried to swim back to the shore
But his broken heart could take no more

He sunk beneath the booger pool
And died a little booger fool

But just before he met his doom
He spoke the words now on his tomb

I should have built a booger sled
Or eaten all of them instead