Dr. Seuss Does Avadim Hayinu

We were slaves to King Pharaoh,
        that terrible king,
and he made us do all kinds
        of difficult things.
Like building a pyramid
        of chocolate ice cream
when the sun was so hot
        that the Nile turned to steam,
and digging a ditch
        with a spade of soft cotton.
That Pharaoh was wicked
        and nasty and rotten!

He made us prepare him
        a big birthday cake
and buy fancy presents
        for Pharaoh to take,
and he kept us awake
        with a terrible noise,
but he never allowed us
        to play with his toys.

It's a good thing that God
        took us out of that place
and gave evil old Pharaoh
        a slap in the face.
Because if he hadn't,
        we'd all be in trouble,
still slaving away
        in the dust and the rubble,
cleaning up the king's mess
        and still folding his clothes
and arranging his torn socks
        in eighty-four rows,
and balancing eggs
        on the tips of our toes.

Yes, even if we were
        as smart as my mother,
as wise as my best friend Dov's
        four-month-old brother,
if we'd read all the books
        in the public library
or watched as much TV
        as old Auntie Mary--
We still should keep telling
        this wonderful story
of how we got out
        in a huff and a hurry.