The
Flamingos are Coming
The flamingos are coming
They're angry and cross
I'd better start running
Or be turned into sauceThey haven't been fed
For a day at the most
But when flamingos are hungry
They'll see you as toast
Their beaks will be gaping
Their claws will be sharp
If they happen to bite you
It will leave a scar
The flamingos are coming
Pink feathers are flared
I can hear their screeching
If only I cared!
Oh what's this? They've stopped now
They're rabid no longer
But though they've found food
They'll be back by tomorrow.