The last giraffe at Pembrook Zoo,
Had a case of stomach flu.
When she lay down her tired head,
Keeper Bill was filled with dread.
Bill tried to fix her, called the vet,
Then she died, his favourite pet.
Tears rolled down the keeper's cheek,
As he let out a mournful shriek.
He was summoned one week later,
To see the big boss, Harold Slater.
'Thing is, old chap, a Keeper needs,
An animal to clean and feed.
With no beast it does not pay,
To keep you hanging round all day.'
'Hang on Harold, don't be rash,
Don't throw me out, like smelly trash.'
'Ok Bill, then you must find,
A giraffe, of any sort or kind.'
Getting busy, straight down to work,
He didn't stop, he didn't shirk.
He called up collegues in the know,
And felt his tension start to grow.
'Sorry chum, but they've all gone,
Unless you maybe chance upon,
One hidden in the land of Blong'.
'The land of Blong, I'll go straight there,
I'll find a beastie, this I swear'.
For months Bill searched through distant lands,
Jungles, plains, exotic sands.
Finally Bill could walk no more,
And slowly sank down to the floor.
He banged his head upon the ground.
'There's none left', our poor Bill frowned.
Wearily he turned for home,
With nowhere left to walk and roam.
There must be something I can do,
To keep my job back at the zoo.
Bill scratched his head, began to think.
Got out paper, pen and ink,
He scribbled madly through the night.
Till suddenly he saw the light.
Vanishing into his shed,
He worked until his fingers bled.
Next morning came a wondrous sight.
Giraffes of metal shining bright!
Now if you visit Pembrook Zoo,
The giraffes are gleaming, made anew.
No cold or flu can harm these creatures,
Now they have metallic features.
Had a case of stomach flu.
When she lay down her tired head,
Keeper Bill was filled with dread.
Bill tried to fix her, called the vet,
Then she died, his favourite pet.
Tears rolled down the keeper's cheek,
As he let out a mournful shriek.
He was summoned one week later,
To see the big boss, Harold Slater.
'Thing is, old chap, a Keeper needs,
An animal to clean and feed.
With no beast it does not pay,
To keep you hanging round all day.'
'Hang on Harold, don't be rash,
Don't throw me out, like smelly trash.'
'Ok Bill, then you must find,
A giraffe, of any sort or kind.'
Getting busy, straight down to work,
He didn't stop, he didn't shirk.
He called up collegues in the know,
And felt his tension start to grow.
'Sorry chum, but they've all gone,
Unless you maybe chance upon,
One hidden in the land of Blong'.
'The land of Blong, I'll go straight there,
I'll find a beastie, this I swear'.
For months Bill searched through distant lands,
Jungles, plains, exotic sands.
Finally Bill could walk no more,
And slowly sank down to the floor.
He banged his head upon the ground.
'There's none left', our poor Bill frowned.
Wearily he turned for home,
With nowhere left to walk and roam.
There must be something I can do,
To keep my job back at the zoo.
Bill scratched his head, began to think.
Got out paper, pen and ink,
He scribbled madly through the night.
Till suddenly he saw the light.
Vanishing into his shed,
He worked until his fingers bled.
Next morning came a wondrous sight.
Giraffes of metal shining bright!
Now if you visit Pembrook Zoo,
The giraffes are gleaming, made anew.
No cold or flu can harm these creatures,
Now they have metallic features.
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