King of the Jungle
The king of the jungle
Can sleep until noon
He wakes up and looks for food
When he sees a magnificent plume
Blues, reds and pinks
What is this he sees?
Why has this creature
Never left the trees?
He is an awe of this beauty;
It's more than his own;
For his orange, blacks and whites
Only gives him the throne
These colours, so vibrant
Like nothing before
Makes him go deep in the jungle
To search for some more
He follows the creature
As fast as he can
Follows blindly
With no devised plan
It lands on a tree
He climbs up the trunk
He falls to the ground
Quite like a drunk
But soon it flies
Away in the sky
The king of the jungle
Now wants to cry
For the creature's too fast
He must let it go
For if it flies up there,
More shall come from below
Can sleep until noon
He wakes up and looks for food
When he sees a magnificent plume
Blues, reds and pinks
What is this he sees?
Why has this creature
Never left the trees?
He is an awe of this beauty;
It's more than his own;
For his orange, blacks and whites
Only gives him the throne
These colours, so vibrant
Like nothing before
Makes him go deep in the jungle
To search for some more
He follows the creature
As fast as he can
Follows blindly
With no devised plan
It lands on a tree
He climbs up the trunk
He falls to the ground
Quite like a drunk
But soon it flies
Away in the sky
The king of the jungle
Now wants to cry
For the creature's too fast
He must let it go
For if it flies up there,
More shall come from below