Mad dogs and dipterists go out in the midday sun
A trait you’d be quite soppy to copy
Bloodsucking flies they roll their eyes
And say we’ll have such fun
The cleggs are all quite hateful, but grateful.
Down by the stream the sun’s bright beam
Falls where tall grasses wave
They gather there and then declare
That fool’s uncommon brave
It must be something humans eat
That makes their blood so nice and sweet
It’s like a currant bun
When mad dogs and dipterists go out in the midday sun.
They say the camera never lies
But he only sees the view
The dipterist’s eyes are on the prize
He won’t see me nor you
I’ll take his hand, you and the band
Can check his open neck
We’ll lose a few but most get through
So fire the starting gun
'Cause mad dogs and dipterists are out in the midday sun!