My brother thinks he's a bananaBut my mother won't ever admit itHe sleeps curled up in the fruit bowlThough Grandma tries to forbid itShe says it isn't normal for him to act that wayAnd although his complexion has yellowedHe seems to be okayHe won't go out when the sun is up;"It's a phobia," the doctor feelsAnd like all good bananasHe's afraid of getting peeledHe really is a scholarHe's read all the books by BellowBut still he likes to clown aroundAnd cut up in the JelloClimbing in with one foot firstHe'll stay all day in thereThen mommy has to hose him downAnd shampoo all his hairI don't really understand himAnd I don't want to seem mean'Cause I love my little brotherEspecially with sour cream
