In the bottom of the garden on a cold and frosty morn,
A baby elf was sucking, all snuggled up and warm;
In the bottom of the garden, where busy bees would hum,
Propped against a mushroom, elf baby sucked its thumb.

In the bottom of the garden on a cold and frosty morn,
A baby elf was touching, all snuggled up and warm;
In the bottom of the garden, rubbing the fluff on its hat,
Propped again a mushroom, Elf Baby A’Touching sat.

In the bottom of the garden on a cold and frosty morn,
A baby elf lay snoozing, all snuggled up and warm;
In the bottom of the garden, where no pets went to play,
Underneath a mushroom, the snoozing elf would stay.