Through Flanders eyes, the world I see
He gives of himself like a bee to a flower
Spirits are lifted with a hey diddlely dee
And his calmness still sits even when things go sour.
Behind this fragile façade lurks a chiseled bod',
Like a masterpiece sprung from a mighty stone
From within he seeks comfort in God.
His need for prayer is like a dog to a bone.
Alas, poor Flanders will never be at ease.
Peace began to fade, as the day does to night.
When his loved one was gone he fell to his knees
As if his soul was taken and made less bright.
Oh Flanders, oh Flanders Ned Flanders thy name
Your world makes no sense but who is to blame?