---

Rudyard Kipling - Road Song of the Bandar-Log
Work rating: Low

Here we go in a flung festoon,
Half-way up to the jealous moon!
Don`t you envy our pranceful bands?
Don`t you wish you had extra hands?
Would n`t you like if your tails were — so — 
Curved in the shape of a Cupid`s bow?
         Now you`re angry, but — never mind,
         Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!

Here we sit in a branchy row,
Thinking of beautiful things we know;
Dreaming of deeds that we mean to do,
All complete, in a minute or two — 
Something noble and grand and good,
Won by merely wishing we could.
         Now we`re going to — never mind,
         Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!

All the talk we ever have heard
Uttered by bat or beast or bird — 
Hide or fin or scale or feather — 
Jabber it quickly and all together!
Excellent! Wonderful! Once again!
Now we are talking just like men.
         Let `s pretend we are… never mind,
         Brother, thy tail hangs down behind!
         This is the way of the Monkey-kind.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.