Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄

Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄, of Pratford-Upon,

Never came and never went.
Though when he did, he didn't.
And when he didn't, he didn't.

Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄ wisely kept his own council
Wrapped tight within his own anus -
For none to see.
And none be wiser than he.

Yes, Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄ was a real chap – that's true.
And chap of two minds, plus three.
A chap so deep and dark,
So sly and sneak,
That those who knew him, didn't.
And those that didn't, didn't.

For no one knows a Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄ like me -
That's a fucking lie!
And, as said, those that do, don't.

Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄. Oh! Héïñlïćḱ Sţïf̱f̱ᶀür̯t̄!
Now sing the sad song
Of the life Héïñlïćḱ never came close to living.