I met a man down on his luck
Life had treated him quite bad
I got him some tea and a bit of tuck
And he told me a tale so sad
Show business used to be his game
With an act so new and bright
He had a parrot, Pete was its name
And they sold out night after night
The parrot could do impressions
Of famous folks old and new
And although it never had lessons
It could sing like the pop stars do
It would sound just like John Cleese
Doing its own parrot sketch
Then Tom Hanks, John Wayne and the BeeGees
It wouldn’t find a stretch
But the call for variety died
And the money stopped coming in
And soon he had to decide
How to save his own skin
So sadly he came to the task
Of eating the parrot, beak to wing
‘What did it taste like? ’ I asked
‘Beef, Pete could imitate anything’
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Parrots are almost pirates... men can maketh birds many things.. they are the current heartland of evolution.... backchat that...!