Poor little birdies in a pot
I hear them complaining its hot.
Into the vulgar hole with that onion
That leg knuckle looks like a bunion.
Looking at the naked tail
It makes me want to rail.
Their butts in the air its nasty
And one hour later its tasty.
Strange how one hour under heat
Makes something gross good to eat.
I found him,
Or did he find me?
I gave him all of me,
Went to the big city zoo
All of them in cages, behind bars, locked up
Protects us no doubt from these free spirited creatures.
Eye met eye for me and the Okapi