A hare was dancing in the middle of the street
You know his feet were slappin' down a funky beat.
He had his arms thrown wide, he was a sight to see
His mouth was runnin' mile a minute spewin' out debris.
He was singin' his own praises as you might have guessed
And then out came this proclamation 'bout his speediness:
“I'm a speed demon, I'm a shooting star,
I peel the paint right off the chassis of a racing car.
I got the rockets in my heels like Mercury,
Yeah, when it comes to speed there's no one holds a candle to me.
I turn the light out in my room sometimes just for a lark
And I'm in bed and covered up before the room gets dark!
Now that's fast!”
Well a crowd had gathered and they started to cheer
They were dancin' in the street and they were drinkin' beer.
The hare was swelled to bursting from his recent boast
And his agent grabbed the microphone to make a toast.
The more praise lauded the more that hare's head grew
When he heard a voice holler, “I'm faster than you!”
Well the hare reared up and he shot a glance
He rolled his shirt sleeves up and he hitched his pants.
He said, “Who dares to challenge the King of Speed?
You'd better make your will before I make you bleed!”
And when the crowd about-faced in a single move
There stood an old green tortoise putting on the groove.
“You think you're pretty cool
You think you're pretty fast
You think you're King of Speed
You know that just can't last.
You got an attitude
You got an ego, too
You got an arrogance
It'll be the death of you.
You think yourself a hare
You're just a rabbit to me
And I can beat any rabbit
In the first degree.
You wanna take me on
You wanna win the cup
You gotta prove the pudding
Or else shut up.
You wanna win your crown
You have to break a sweat
You haven't proved a thing
To these people yet.
You're just flappin' gums
You're just a yappin' gob
You gotta put up or shut up,
So take the job!”
Well, the hare started laughing and the crowd did, too
Having fits of hysteria 'til they're turning blue.
The hare said, “You? You? You haven't got a chance!
You make me laugh so hard I almost wet my pants!
You say you want a race? I'm ready to depart.
I'll cross the finish line before you even start!”
“I'm a speed demon, I'm a cannon ball,
You might be heck on wheels but I'm hell on paws.
I'm like Speedy Gonzalez on caffeine,
I got the rockin' locomotion in my genes.
I'm the streak of light on a scimitar,
I'm Lightnin' Hopkins on electric guitar
And that's fast!”
The pistol sounded and the race was on
The hare was out of sight but the tortoise was calm.
He plodded steadily onward to a four-four beat
With two pairs of Reeboks on his feet.
He had a knowing smile upon his face
And this to say as he kept his pace:
“That rabbit way up there
He thinks I got no chance
He's lookin' mighty fine
In leather runnin' pants.
He's laughin' awful hard
He thinks it's in the bag
It's all too easy for him
Hear him boast and brag.
He hasn't got a clue
Beyond his jibes and jeers
That I been training hard
For the last three years.
I've been working out
At my local gym
And my honest sweat
Will win out over him.
I got him dead to rights
With these four fat feet
Gonna settle his hash
With a steady beat.
I'm gonna cut him down
To his rightful size
When I cross that line
When I win that prize.”
So, now a mile out front we pick up Mr. Hare
He's just boppin' along without a single care.
He ran the race full-tilt for ‘bout the first half mile
And then he settled back jogging in his lazy style.
He spied a shady grove beneath an old oak tree
And thought, ‘I'll rest me here till slowpoke catches
Up with me.'
Well, he sat himself down on that comfy sod
And in thirty seconds he was starting to nod.
He was feeling woozy, he was feeling good
And inside two minutes he was sawing wood.
He woke up two hours later with a crick in his spine
Just in time to see the tortoise cross the finish line.
How the crowd did scoff and how the crowd did scorn
A hare so slow should be ashamed he that he'd been born.
They paid no heed to his excuses, he had had his day
They lifted Tortoise on their shoulders, carried him away.
He could hear the victory bell ringing, Ding! Ding! Ding!
And from a distance he could hear the crowd begin to sing:
“He's a speed demon, he's a vegetable,
He's an old dray horse with a load to pull.
He's got no rockets in his pockets, it's just lead shot,
And his rockin' locomotion has all gone to pot.
He's black strap molasses in a right deep freeze,
He's the Energizer bunny with no batteries