Willy Wonka: There's no earthly way of knowing/Which direction they are going... There's no knowing where they're rowing...
Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Rowing...
Willy Wonka: Or which way the river's flowing... Is it raining, is it snowing?/Is a hurricane a-blowing?
[sharp gasp]
Willy Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing/So the danger must be growing... Are the fires of Hell a-glowing?/Is the grisly Reaper mowing?/Yes! The danger must be growing/'Cause the rowers keep on rowing/
[practically screaming]
Willy Wonka: And they're certainly not showing/Any sign that they are slowing!
[lets out a high-pitched, almost unearthly scream]