His head, his head!He really is dead.Cleaved clean off,Now his hat, he really can't doff.One wonders whereHis head doth lie?Perhaps on a pizza,Or maybe in a pie?I won't lie,'Twas I.The little bugger,Called me a fly!So his head I did lop,Honestly, I went choppity-chop,Then I used it as a mop. Teehee, choppity-chop!