It´s not a thing   It´s alive   It´s not a plant   Though it often crawls   It can trumpet   Yelp and bark   Cackle whine   Chatter bleat   Troat and whistle   Or at least   Fill the air   With its ugly cries      So prone to swindle   Those of its kind   It shakes all over   Doesn´t know why   Thinks it´s immortal   But has to die   And when its end comes   It starts to cry      It strukes about like a King   Wriggles turns   Comes and goes   Works all day   Sleeps all night   When it doesn´t work   It has to hide   Always…   Restless dance…   Restive it will never learn   All the things   It can not discern      So prone to swindle   Those of its kind   It shakes all over   Doesn´t know why   Thinks it´s immortal   But has to die   And when its end comes   It starts to cry   It shakes all over   Doesn´t know why   And when its end comes   It starts to cry      It spreads around the sphere   Feeding itself with life   It can not understand   Shakes all over   Doesn´t know why   Doesn´t know why   When life   Takes it down a peg   It feigns   To be called   Chosen crowned      Thinks it´s immortal   But has to die      It shakes all over   Doesn´t know why t   Thinks it´s immortal   But has to die