Dude sure gets a steamed brain
and then goes on the attack.
You see: his balled-up fists are flying,
then there’s a judo-chop hack.

He finds them appalling
and dismisses them as “weeds.”

He becomes a big ripper;
his hands pull them out. . .goes from end to end.
Next he does some thumper harm, thumping. . .
much energy to expend.

He mauls ’em; he’s a hedge slammer
whose methods are not tame.
He’ll wrench ’em out, a hedge slammer;
he really gets testy, grossly!
He has new-grown shoots rage
and ain’t a one for huggin’ trees.
And it ain’t a mute rage:
he’s bruiting out his enmity.

He mauls ’em; he’s a hedge slammer
whose methods are not tame.
He’ll wrench ’em out, a hedge slammer;
he might face arrest
for being such a hedge slammer.
When he sees a bush, he’ll rout it.

Hedge, sedge slammer.

A kick’s his gambit
when he’s in
some thick golfing rough.
He goes smashing, smashing hedge-plant kin.
On a destroying spree,
rams path-lined stand of yew.
On a spree, his hands used to hew.

Slash, slash, slash, slash, slash, slash!
Gets so mean when he’s blue.
A saw couldn’t chew
greenery with such power.
Disposition’s sour—way!
He will freak out and rip ’em;
he will wreak ’em and rip ’em.
And that’s what he’s doing, hewing
all day and night.