There Once Was A Bird That Lived Up In A Tree, And All He Could Whistle Was "Fiddle-Dee-Dee" - A Very Provoking, Unmusical Song For One To Be Whistling The Summer Day Long! Yet Always Contented And Busy Was He With That Vocal Recurrence Of "Fiddle-Dee-Dee." Hard By Lived A Brave Little Soldier Of Four, That Weird Iteration Repented Him Sore; "I Prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! Fetch Me My Gun, For, By Our St. Didy! The Deed Must Be Done That Shall Presently Rid All Creation And Me Of That Ominous Bird And His 'Fiddle-Dee-Dee'!" Then Out Came Dear-Mother-Mine, Bringing Her Son His Awfully Truculent Little Red Gun; The Stock Was Of Pine And The Barrel Of Tin, The "Bang" It Came Out Where The Bullet Went In - The Right Kind Of Weapon I Think You'll Agree For Slaying All Fowl That Go "Fiddle-Dee-Dee"! The Brave Little Soldier Quoth Never A Word, But He Up And He Drew A Straight Bead On That Bird; And, While That Vain Creature Provokingly Sang, The Gun It Went Off With A Terrible Bang! Then Loud Laughed The Youth - "By My Bottle," Cried He, I've Put A Quietus On 'Fiddle-Dee-Dee'!" Out Came Then Dear-Mother-Mine, Saying: "My Son, Right Well Have You Wrought With Your Little Red Gun! Hereafter No Evil At All Need I Fear, With Such A Brave Soldier As You-My-Love Here!" She Kissed The Dear Boy. (The Bird In The Tree Continued To Whistle His "Fiddle-Dee-Dee")