The day that they shot Bambi
Men wept in public bars;
Stumbled out into the night
To gaze at fallen stars.
Left all alone – without a friend
They’ve even charged old Thumper;
Perp walked him shamed, across the park
In his blue and white hooped jumper.
The crosses burned on Windy Hill
Some said Bambi lit the fire;
“He’s always been ambitious deer”
Impatient to go higher.
The gathering of the Klan
Considered deers of disrepute;
They gravely read their verdicts
With only Bambi left to shoot.
The Wizard sadly shook his hood
Reached slowly for his gun;
For the honour of the forest
We’ll dine on venison.
Brought smiles
On the Mekong
Chalking up miles
Not a karaoke song
(nor am I a poet)
Tenpole Tudor did it best
A song for Sweet Baby James – some one has to pull the trigger, he is starting to sound like the Black Knight
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1tzOEjEgXTI
We should get Mr Tenpole to launch this year’s Almanac. He’s madder than Anson!
Now Bambi sleeps secure at night
No guilt to need disownin’;
There’s memory loss and a healthy tan
All thanks to melatonin.