Boiling hot, boiling hot
I’m on a stove in a pot
They are getting me ready for the time of tea
My mom, my dad, and you and me
The fans do not help at all
And the sun will not heed my call
Of “Cool down, cool down! That’s a little too much!
I’m not accustomed to heat of such.”
Wishing for shade, a little rain
That wet thing of which I used to complain
The brother to the fluid with me in this pot
In which I am boiling, boiling hot!