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The Joy of Locomotion There was a little blastula, no larger than a germ Who performed invagination in his mother's mesoderm And then his nascent cilia with joy began to squirm In ecstasy supreme. Chorus: Oh the joy of locomotion, down within the depths of ocean Oh to feel the great commotion within each blastomere. No protozoan can ever guess the pleasure he did feel When he felt within his ectoderm a growing gastrocele With joy and pride his polar cells at length began to reel In foolish self-content. But oh, alas for youthful pride as upward he did soar He caught a tuft of spiculi upon his blastophore And trying hard to get it off his ectoderm he tore A great big ugly rent. "Oh mother dear," he cried in grief, "come quickly now and try To heal my little ectoderm or else I'll have to die." But his mother dear was sessile and could only sit and cry From her exterrent pore. No every night his little ghost within the deep is found Lamenting to the annelids that burrow in the ground The hydroids wave their tentacles and shudder at the sound Of this familiar strain. (Tune: Battle Hymn of the Republic) RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!