Buster was a banjo player, He played the banjo well, But, the only song in his repertoire, Was the Overture to William Tell, Buster could not read or write, He didn't know one note from another, He only learned to play William Tell, From the whistling of his mother, Buster tried to learn new songs, He tried leaning them by ear, But, when he tried to play the songs, His audience would sob, "Oh Dear!" Buster became so frustrated, He decided not to play, He figured music was overrated, So, he sits and dreams all day.
One day after I had some beer, Everything became real clear, I looked outside and I could see, A pink orangutan in my tree, As I watched him from my little ranch, He wound around on every branch, When he saw my Steele glare, He waved to acknowledge I was there, The next day I could not see, The pink orangutan in my tree, My stomached ached and forehead throbbed, ‘My pink orangutan was gone’’, I sobbed, At last I lost my very last tear, Then, I realized my greatest fear, For the orangutan had taken care, To at least acknowledge I was there.