Hush, little Whismur, don’t you cry,
Papa’s gonna buy you a tasty pie.
And if that pie’s a flavor you don’t like,
Papa’s gonna buy you a fancy bike.
And if you fall off that bike and wipe out,
You’re gonna start to scream and shout.
You’ll cry so loud you’re afraid of your own roar,
Which means you’re gonna cry even louder than before.
You’ll cry, and you’ll wail, and you’ll scream so severe,
You won’t stop because you breath through your ear.
Cry, little Whismur, and after your shout,
You’ll fall asleep because you’re all tuckered out.
-Odemon #293 Whismur