We were singing the song for the donkey,
And you didn't trust me that
I was crying truly.
And you were laughing like hell
Every time I started the refrain:
The donkey brays in the afternoon,
In the afternoon the donkey brays,
While chewing its donkey thistles.
And then I gave you to try
The soup with meat balls
That I was preparing the whole morning.
I let you sip the hot soup
And you burned your tongue,
So you could be quiet
And I could finish the song
For the donkey:
And the donkey gazed at
A lady bug on one of those
Damned thistles
And choked
On one of those damned
Thistles.
And I was crying so much
That I couldn't finish the song,
And thus you never understood
That in the little castor
That I always wear on my neck
And that you like to kiss so much,
I keep a hair from the crest of the donkey,
And the dead body of that lady bug.