There's a Crocodile under the table,
There’s a Crocodile under my chair;
I can feel it scrape next to my slippers...
Heaven knows how on Earth it got there.
I can feel it's rough scales on my ankles,
I can smell its wet skin up my nose,
I can feel it's long teeth grinning widely,
As it greedily eyes up my toes.
I really can't think how it got there,
Or how it got under my chair;
Perhaps it crawled out of the toilet,
And now it feels comfortable there.
Its moving across to Aunt Mable!
It's hungrily licking it's lips!
It might crunch her leg like an apple!
And spit out the toe-bones like pips!
Aunt Mable is looking towards me,
Her spectacled eyes peering ’round;
She’s cross 'cos I stole all her knitting,
And buried it deep underground.
The Crocodile's getting quite hungry,
It wants a plump leg for it's tea ;
It's terrible it's chosen Aunt Mable’s,
(But then, it could've been me.)
The Crocodile's mouth is now watering,
It's tongue is beginning to drool,
It's slavver is dribbling right down it,
And forming a ravenous pool.
It's jaws are beginning to open!
They're wrapped around Aunt Mable's leg!
Its going to sink all its teeth in,
And snap down it's jaws like a peg!
But wait! - she’s finished her dinner,
She's getting up out of her chair!
The Crocodile doesn't look happy:
Its snapped a large chunk of thin air!
There’s a Crocodile under the table,
And its hobbling it's way towards me;
It's licking it's lips and it's smiling:
I think that I'm next for it's tea!
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