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"I shockingly felt it was more than a prickle
It cut deep inside like a hammer and sickle,
And just as I sensed all my insides go fickle
My poor helpless feet felt the birth of a tickle;
My soles and my arches were close to a wriggle
My toes had to fight off an impulse to wiggle,
And just when I thought I could handle the jiggle
I felt a most curious impulse to giggle;
It must have been all that the Tickler was saying
That addled my mind while his fingers were playing,
And started my mighty composure decaying
I wanted so much to break down and start braying;"

"So I translated ticklish from Swedish to Dutch
With the strength of my will, which had always been clutch,
When it seemed I was winning the battle and such
Then I suddenly felt that it tickled too much;
He was cutting right through all my stern self-command
Which was nothing I ever had wanted or planned,
But some weakness inside me was finding it grand
And it thrilled to the foot-tickling touch of his hand;
With my chances of victory slipping a rung
I just couldn't conceive how the trap had been sprung,
How my barefeet were feeling so ticklishly young
When he licked in between all my toes with his tongue;"

"As the Barefootin Tickler drew near to his goal
I went deeper and deeper down into the hole,
With his fingers all reaching right into my soul
And my bare ticklish feet I just couldn't control;
While the force of his tickles kept growing in clout
I kept in all my giggles that wanted to shout,
When my barefeet revolted, I hadn't a doubt
That the laughs I was holding had GOT to come out;
I was sorely ashamed as my ticklishness grew
It felt good to be barefootin, awful but true,
How I WANTED to laugh, but it just wouldn't do
As my giggles began, then I cried out to you;