Elephants rarely go hippety hop;
Most certainly, rarely do I.
But what is that peeking from yonder cloud?
What is that up in the sky?
And over there, some tiger teeth
There must be fifty or more
And wrapped around them a great big grin
Like a Cheshire. Size XL or more
And who is that creature approaching me now?
A hippo? I think not.
Or an elephant? no,
Of that I am sure
It’s hippety, hipping and hop.
So that is the end, for now at least
Of this dream in a foreign land
Bring me a drum and a big bassoon
I shall leave with a marching band.
(Won’t you join me? Take my hand.)