Henry the Hippo, when shall I prevail?
To rip the skin off your face, so blotchy and pale!
That would be better than even the Fork Story!
When I think of you, my thoughts turn gory.

I'd like to wring your neck-- ah, that would be fun!
Oh, the glory of having finally won!
Yet when I see you, I want to burst into tears
Henry the Hippo, you confirm my greatest fears.

Yet there is still hope! He is moving away!
There is a chance that I will get to stay!
My horrid memories of you shall decay--
I'd still like to kill you, anyway.

I cannot let the time you by
Without wishing you to die
Henry the Hippo, you make me cry.