'Twas on a sunny day, walking down the road,
I spied a little boy, holding in his hand, a big old toad:
Said he was gonna give it to a little girl he knew,
Said he really loved her, and her name was Anna Lou.

I told him he might better think on it, just a little more,
And a pretty bouquet of flowers, more likely she'd adore,
Cause frogs aren't for little girls, it seems they don't click,
It might make her unhappy, and maybe make her sick.

He said aw okay, if you're sure girls are that way,
Guess if you'll help, I could pick a flower to give her today:
But why don't girls like frogs? They're lots of fun,
They just go hopped hop. All the way to the creek, they'll run.

Why do they like flowers? They just tickle up your nose,
Can't take them out to play, and there's thorns on a rose:
And anyway, I can't talk about a flower to Anna Lou,
All the guys would laugh, and call me names to.

Maybe I'll keep my frog in my pocket, so he won't hop away,
Tell Anna Lou, put up the flower, let's go out and play,
Let's play ball awhile, then play jump over that old log,
And after that I'm going home, to play with my toady frog.

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