To the tune of "Die Forelle"

Once in a dirty puddle,
there slid with merry aplomb
the Watcher in the Water,
bedrenched with greenish scum.
I stood and gazed upon the creature
and saw in peaceful bliss
its tentacular features
a-bathe with joyous hiss,
its tentacular features
a-bathe with joyous hiss.

A fisher with a firewhip
stood on the puddle's bank,
and looked with greedy eyelid
upon the Watcher's prank.
O if the murky water
but hid the creature for a time,
the fisher didn't oughter
destroy its gentle slime,
the fisher didn't oughter
destroy its gentle slime.

But then became impatient
the greedy brute.
The firewhip became sneaky radiant,
and ere I could say "moot,"
the firewhip brunt the thingie,
its tentacles nevermore would squirm;
and I with weep-stained hankie
bemourned the steaming worm,
and I with weep-stained hankie
bemourned the steaming worm.