Two hammocks, both alike in dignity,
In fair Ar-KAN-zuss, where we lay our scene,
From hasty plans that bear no scrutiny,
Where camping (yard) doth good night's rest demean.
For in the dangling beds of these two bros
A pair of star-cross'd campers take their rest;
Whose misadventured evening fitful doze
Doth with the sunrise see them fed and dressed.
The fearful passage of their gas and wee,
Behind a hedge or underneath a bough,
Which, fueled by s'mores and milk, loosed with esprit,
To nature binds them both, like noble cows.
Come morn', out of their hammock tents they'll lurch
And brush their teefs, and shuffle off to church.