| TIGER, tiger, burning bright |
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| In the Bayou in the night, |
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| What immortal nose that witness |
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| Could naught but smell thy corndogness? |
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| At what distant tailgate seek |
5 |
| Burnt the dog of which you reek? |
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| On what grill did he conspire? |
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| To burn the casing in the fire? |
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| And what shoulder and what art |
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| Could rend an odor worse than... well, you know? |
10 |
| And when thy scent at last it rose, |
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| What dread hand covered whose hurt nose? |
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| What the batter? what the stick? |
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| Made this corndog stench so thick? |
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| What the charcoal? What the grill? |
15 |
| Create the odor to make us ill? |
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| When the stench unwashed by beers, |
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| Bade use water heaven with our tears, |
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| Did He smile His work to see? |
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| Did He who made the rose make thee? |
20 |
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| Tiger, tiger, burning bright |
|
| In the bayou in the night, |
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|
What immortal nose that witness
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