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.)

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