Part one: song of the Marshwiggle

The swamp is quiet this morning and the mist is in the air;

I don't hear the eels splashing in the shallows,

They'll all have gone away

I shouldn't wonder…

I shouldn't wonder

Why they all say the swamp is a horrid place,

For it is quite muddy and smelly and tricky

But we Marsh Wiggles love it for its pleasant ponds and vines.

The mist is bluish gray and it stretches out like fingers;

I can barely see my own webbed feet ahead,

I cannot walk any further

I shouldn't wonder…

I shouldn't wonder

Why they say the mist is a frightening foe

For it is quite lonely and cold and wet

But we Marsh Wiggles love it for its mysterious beauty.

Hot soup and a good smoke are two of my customs,

So I look for some water cress to put in my pipe;

Others think that this is queer

I shouldn't wonder…

I shouldn't wonder

Why they all say Marsh Wiggles are strange

For we are odd and pessimistic,

But we Marsh Wiggles hope that you could somehow see past that.

Until that day we stand here in the swamp waiting,

Fishing poles in our webbed hands,

Lonely and forgotten

I shouldn't wonder…