Thursday, 5 May 2011

Norwegian Blue

with apologies to Monty Python

This parrot is no more, my man

What you just sold to me

You try to wake him, if you can

For he has ceased to be

There’s no point getting loud and rough

He’s quit this world of toil

He’s had enough, and now he’s shuff…

…led off this mortal coil

He’s joined the choir invisible,

He’s took his final walk

And your assertion’s risible

That he’s just tired and shagged out after a particularly long squawk

You nailed him to the perch, you fraud

D’you take me for a prat?

He isn’t pining for the fjords

What kind of talk is that?

In this here parrot’s book of life

He’s wrote his final chapter

His metabolic processes

Are not a current factor

I now insist on recompense

Yes, that’s what I’m demanding

This parrot’s stuffed, in every sense

His plumage notwithstanding

If I don’t get a pet what squawks

I’ll take it out on you

You’ve got a slug? It sings? It talks?

Well, that’ll have to do


The Lesser Weevil said...

Another feather in yer cap - or parrot, if you think it might help.

The Lesser Weevil said...
This comment has been removed by the author.