Crab is afraid of the sea

all those stomping waves

crabs looks at them and runs

leaving shadows as tips

crab signs his escape in the sand

using the only letters he trusts

poor crab.

His eyes melt into two points --

pole, compass

run, crab,

here comes grandma

carrying a stew pot

and she's learned to make fire

by rubbing two stones in the sand

like the sea does.



chorus: run, crab --

why?

here comes grandma

no way!

and she's carrying a pot

oh yeah?

run, crab --

not to the kitchen!

here comes grandma

no hot water, neither!

and she's got --

I'll hide in the sand!

a stew pot --

run, crab

nasty old lady!

here comes grandma

ha ha you old lady

and she's got a stew pot

run, crab --