Of peas, there are none to equal
A certain pea I know,
Who carries around a camera,
And has a manly baritone
He stands on top of flower pots,
He stands on top of two,
To get his shot for the book,
He might even take a picture of you!
If you are lucky, traveller,
You may find him in Paris,
Where he sits with many other peas,
And discusses lemon-green tea,
His voice can be heard from the rooftops-
"Come! Fashion-seekers, and see!"
Says he in his deep voice, full of heroism
"I shall take a photo of thee!"
His shirt- it rips apart,
As he gets his camera out,
And his stands upon a flower pot,
And clicks his button with a shout
"For I am the pea!"
As he quips about his prowess in bed,
And his ten million thousand suits
"Hooray for the pea!" cries an audience,
Abound with joyful cheer,
"Hooray for the pea! Hooray for the pea!"
As they drown in bottles of fashionable beer