From the dark and damp streets of Whitechapel
To the misty, dreary mountaintops of Wallachia
Bert the Rumpelipopman
Continues to travel
Though time and space
All of a sudden
A great tentacle grabs him
By the flaps of his ass
The unmistakeable scent of seawater
Causes his ragged nostrils
To spasm and twitch
When suddenly
A bell solemnly tolls