There's a thick pig, dancing a jig,
May be destined for baconhood,
Because that's canis lupus, puffin' real hard,
And the pig's straw house, it ain't built real good.
"I'll huff and I'll puff; blow your house in,"
He growls as he huffs, nonstop.
So the little pig escapes, is darting
To a pig's house of sticks, just down the block.

Oh, but there ain't no quarter there,
As they soon see.
He's quite a snorter; air
Comes like the strong breeze Daisy.
There ain't no mortar there,
Just thatchery.
Little pigs' houses--now two, once three.

Second little pig did harder work,
Made his house of stronger vegetation.
He's got overconfident smile,
He says, "My house will escape devastation."
The wolf shows up; his breath is stronger. . .
Gonna knock down this residence.
He blows the pathetic stick house to smithereens
The two little pigs went. . .

Oh, 'cause there was no quarter there,
As they did see.
He's quite a snorter; air
Comes like the strong breeze Daisy.
There was no mortar there,
Just sticks from tree.
Little pigs' houses--now one, once three.

. . .To the third house, not so cheap built,
The wolf just blow, blow, blows.
Can't knock it down, so he'll rise
To the roof, where he seeks the chimney ingress, so
He does get in, but those porkers
Make of him a big meal
As he drops into a great big pot that's filled
With liquid not chilled; he's killed.

Oh, but ain't there a moral there?
Pigs, there were three.
One built his abode square,
But two were lazy, lazy.
Ain't there a moral there
Of carpentry?
Little pigs' houses: use masonry.