The large hairy Fuzzlewug, you could see where it lay,
eating green cabbages under the hay.
The scrawny black catcrow flew up in the sky,
squarkin and purring way up high.

The Jack-lemon shouted, the night sky turned still,
but Fuzzlewug kept chewin, near the base of the hill.
No one had told him ‘you mustn’t make noise!’,
so he carried on regardless, but along came some boys.

They prodded and poked him,
they pulled on his head,
then, they were squishing him,
and Fuzzlewug was dead.



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