Whedda-Phokkarrwee

[Written to be sung, thus… Verses: roughly to the tune of ‘Ghost riders in the sky’ Chorus: (again, roughly) to the tune of ‘La Cacaracha’] * While travelling through Africa to photograph big game I came across a tribe; Whedda-phokkarrwee is its name They live where grass grows very long, unlike those people there They’re very short and call their names while leaping in the air Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We stand just two feet on the ground Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We jump so we can look around That pygmy race of knee high fame they jump to skip the scare Like when their leader didn’t jump and caught a lion’s glare He leapt up high into the sky and told it go to hell So now they jump to find their way and this is what they yell Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We stand just two feet on the ground Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We jump so we can look around So do you hear the bongo sounding positively wrong-o That’s because there’s tiny people bouncing through the Congo But they can’t ‘kangaroo’ like loons and play their bongo tunes But pretty soon you’ll hear the wailing of those bouncy goons Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We stand just two feet on the ground Whedda-phokkarrwee. Whedda-phokkarrwee We jump so we can look around