I’m sorry I can’t help with a song. However, Eagle Heart (Francis Cree) an Ojibway elder and storyteller from the Turtle Mountain Indian Reservation of North Dakota tells the story of the Holy Spring. He relates that a battle took place in 1910 in the clouds above Turtle Mountain between a Thunderbird and a giant serpent. According to Eagle Heart, this battle was witnessed by many people then living on the reservation. If I remember correctly his parents saw this and that is how he learned of it. Not all the traditional stories of unusual creatures are ages old. The North Dakota Council of the Arts has presented awards to Eagle Heart for narratives.

The story revolves around John Lambton, an heir of the Lambton Estate, County Durham, and his battle with a giant worm which had been terrorising the local villages. The legend is associated with a curse on the Lambton family and it is thought the story dates back to the 12th century.
John Lambton’s encounter with a giant ‘worm’ took place one Sunday morning when he skipped going to church, to go fishing in the River Wear. What he supposedly caught was described as being about three feet in length, although some version of the story the creature is much bigger, and resembles a salamander or snake with legs. Some think it might have been a lamprey. As the story goes, the worm grew to enormous proportions that it could wrap itself around a local hill several times. This place is still known today as Worm Hill, although I know of no modern day reports of this cryptid.
Bram Stoker was believed to have based his book, ‘The Lair of the White Worm’ on the legend of the Lambton Worm.

The song itself dates back to 1867, and is in the Mackem dialect of the North East of England. This part of England was part of Scotland fruther back in its history, and given it’s close proximity to the Scottish border, has many similarities to the Scots language.
The version below has some of the more difficult words translated.

One Sunday mornin’ Lambton went
A-fishing in the Wear;
An’ catched a fish upon he’s heuk (=caught) (=his hook)
He thowt leuk’t vary queer. (=thought looked very strange)
But whatt’n a kind ov fish it was (=what kind of)
Young Lambton cudden’t tell-
He waddn’t fash te carry’d hyem, (=could not be bothered to carry it home)
So he hoyed it doon a well (=threw it down)

Chorus
Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs, (=Be quiet, boys, shut your mouths)
An’ aa’ll tell ye aall an aaful story, (=I’ll tell you all an awful)
Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs,
An’ Aa’ll tel ye ‘boot the worm. (=about)

Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan (=go)
An’ fight i’ foreign wars.
He joined a troop ov Knights that cared
For nowther woonds nor scars, (=neither wounds)
An’ off he went te Palestine
Where queer things him befel,
An varry seun forgat aboot (=very soon forgot about)
The queer worm i’ the well.

But the worm got fat an’ growed an’ growed,
An’ growed an aaful size;
He’d greet big teeth, a greet big gob,
An greet big goggle eyes.
An’ when at neets he craaled aboot (=nights) (=crawled around)
Te pick up bits o’ news,
If he felt dry upon the road,
He milked a dozen coos. (=cows)

This feorful worm would often feed (=fearful)
On caalves an’ lambs an’ sheep,
An’ swally little bairns alive (=swallow) (=children)
When they laid doon te sleep.
An when he’d eaten aall he cud (=all he could)
An’ he had had he’s fill,
He craaled away an’ lapped he’s tail (=wrapped)
Ten times roond Pensher Hill.

The news ov this myest aaful worm (=most)
An’ his queer gannins on (=goings-on)
Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears (=soon) (=got to)
Ov brave an’ bowld Sor John.
So hyem he cam an’ catched the beast, (=home he came and caught)
An’ cut ‘im in twe haalves, (=cut him in two halves)
An’ that seun stopped hes eatin’ bairns
An’ sheep an’ lambs an’ caalves.

So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks (=now you know how all the folk)
On byeth sides ov the Wear (=both)
Lost lots o’ sheep an’ lots o’ sleep
An leeved i’ mortal feor. (=And lived in mortal fear)
So let’s hev one te brave Sor John (=let’s drink to brave Sir John)
That kept the bairns frae harm, (=from)
Saved coos an’ calves by myekin’ haalves (=making halves)
O’ the famis Lambton Worm. (=famous)

I’m looking for the Ogopogo,
His mother was a mutton,
His father was a whale.
I’m going to put a little bit of salt on his tail.

His mother was an earwig;
His father was a whale;
A little bit of head And hardly any tail-
And Ogopogo was his name.

Both are supposed to be a single verse from parodies of British ditties.

A search found a song called “Just a Lonely Ogopogo”:
“In the Sunny Okanagan where the big red apples grow,
living in the Okanagan, lake so fair,
is the famous Ogopogo, and one thing I’d like to know,
is he the only Ogopogo there?
I wonder if the Ogopogo is lonesome, wonder if he is feeling sad or blue.
I wonder if he wishes for and Ogopogo Mrs. and lots of little Ogopogos too.
I bet he is just a sad old Ogopogo with no one to sing his love songs too.
Though he has my sympathy, I am sure you will all agree,
W’d rather see him lonesome than see two.
One day the Ogopogo took a stroll along the shore.
Left his footprints in the sand so they say.
Maybe he was looking for an Ogopogo sweet heart,
but still he is all alone at play.
I wonder if the Ogopogo is lonesome, wonder if he is feeling sad or blue.
I wonder if he wishes for and Ogopogo Mrs. and lots of little Ogopogos too.
I bet he is just a sad old Ogopogo with no one to sing his love songs too.
Though he has my sympathy, I am sure you will all agree,
W’d rather see him lonesome than see two.”

I guess long Canadian winters are conducive for composing!

Probably the best story to read alone in the dark.