Wake up, Winkel, you’ll see. Wake up.
Wake up, Winkel, you’ll see. Wake up.
You have been sound asleep—
wake up, Winkel—promise I keep:
the torture’s over; your alarm clock can emit a piercing peep.
Wake up, Winkel, new day.
Wake up, Winkel, due day.
Swell. . .

Get up to go and brush your maw;
it ain’t gonna be a faux pas.
You can go tell all o’ your friends
that I’m going “ta-ta!”
Wake up, Winkel, you’ll see.
Wake up, Winkel, you’ll be.
Swelled. . .

I told you, buddy, I’d wake you at the end
of my odyssey, well the time has come, friend.
Wake up, Winkel, you’s free.
Wake up, Winkel: ’dieu, me.
No need to be prone.

Wake up, Winkel, you’ll see. Wake up.
Wake up, Winkel, you’ll see. Wake up.

I tunesmith wasn’t so hot;
it’s clear that that’s what you thought.
No need to sleep—I’m gonna book:
that’s rest-itution you got.

Wake up, Winkel, you’s free!
Wake up, Winkel—from, free,
hell.

Get up to go and brush your maw;
first, get offa your swell your paw.
Time’s come for me to make amends
by going “’dieu, ta-ta!”
Wake up, Winkel, you’s free.
Wake up, Winkel—groovy!