The Royal Hunt

It was busy in the jungle, all the animals had come,
To console their friend the Tiger who would soon be Royal game,
But the Tiger wasn't having it, he didn't think it fun
To be stopping Royal bullets from Prince Philip's Royal gun.

"You are lucky", cried the Elephant, "I wish that I was you,
For a palace isn't smelly like it is in London Zoo."
But the Tiger answered dismally, "It isnae really fair,
For ye cannae smell the perfume when ye're stretched oot on the flair."

"But you'll see and hear what's going on," the Vulture slyly said,
"And what the butler didn't see then you will see instead."
"But that's nae consolation," said the Tiger in distress,
"For Ah couldnae sell ma story tae the Sunday Express."

"Don't be daft!" roared out the Lion, "It will really be a treat,
And we'll all be mighty proud when you're a rug for Royal feet."
"Ye micht be prood," the Tiger said, "but Ah will feel a fool,
If the Royal weans pick oot ma een tae play a gamme o bools."

"Just think of all the folk you'll meet," said the Camel with the hump,
"The Great White Queen in London town might stand upon your rump."
"That might be so, my stupid friend," the Tiger loudly moans,
"But whit if the boys o the IRA come chasin Mrs Jones?"

"It's an honour, friend," the Monkey said, "to die for the Royal flag,"
"Ach tae hell," replied the Tiger, that just gets ma tiger's rag!
Aa that jazz is for the birds, it's no for a cat like me,
Ah'd raither end up in a cage than deid wi an OBE!"

So come all ye jolly tigers who go roaming wild and free,
If you've a mind to stay alive, take this advice from me,
Keep one good eye upon your rear when you go through the grass
In case a Royal bullet whistles - up the Khyber Pass!

If using the tune of Ghost Riders in the Sky:

CHORUS:  Yippee-eye-oh!  Yippee-eye-ay!
         Ghost tigers in the sky-y!

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin