The Last Dinosaur's Complaint

So, I’m the last survivor of a breed that ruled the world! Brrr! It’s getting mighty cold. I suppose we can’t complain though. Our innings was quitre long. Brrrr! It’s getting mighty cold. When I was just a nipper not long hatched from the egg, Brrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold, My dinosaurus granddad told us stories of an age, When everything was beautiful and fair. We had a democratic system, We had judges stern but just. No one knew what hunger was, We just ate ferns and moss. O happy salad days! Brrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold. I suppose we got too dozy in our leafy paradise And didn’t see the rot was setting in., When a bad-egg dinosaurus by the name of Tyrannosaurus Decided violent revolution was a more preferable solution To the problems of the state than was steady evolution. Brrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold. He taught that eating lettuce was a very foolish practice, That eating meat was what we ought to do. “In the case of scarcity, don’t think it a perversity To eat a weaker brother. Let the weak go to the wall! Brrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold. The ensuing decimation with each succeeding generation Of our species led in time to a general deterioration, Then a cataclysmic annihilation until the time has come That I’m the only one left to tell the tale. Brrrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold. Those frisky little suckers that constantly make fun of us Doubtless think they’ll have it all their way – and so they may! The sun denies to none of heydays at least one. But after that? Brrrrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold!