Seven Women Named Abbott

Hop along through the fields like the rabbits— Or I know seven women named Abbott. Call it ridiculous, Something ludicrous, But I’ve forgotten what my analogy is for. Either way, because of you, my back is sore, So hop along through the fields like the rabbits— Or I know seven women named Abbott. Don’t let them on your case. Don’t let them see your face. Sing yourself a nursery rhyme, Postpone their judgment for another time, And be free like the rabbits, Or suffer the wrath of seven Abbotts.