The Hippopotamus

By Flanders and Swann

A bold Hippopotamus was standing one day
On the banks of the cool Shalimar
He gazed at the bottom as it peacefully lay
By the light of the evening star
Away on a hilltop, sat combing her hair
His fair Hippopotami maid;
The Hippopotamus was no ignoramus
And sang her this sweet serenade:

‘Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud’

The fair Hippopotama he aimed to entice
From her seat on that hilltop above
As she hadn’t got a Ma to give her advice
Came tiptoeing down to her love
Like thunder the forest re-echoed the sound
Of the song that they sang as they met
His inamorata adjusted her garter
And lifted her voice in duet

The bold Hippopotami began to convene
On the banks of that river so wide
I wonder, now, what am I to say of the scene
That ensued by the Shalimar side?
They dived all at once, with an ear-splitting splosh
Then rose to the surface again
A regular armyof Hippopotami
All singing this haunting refrain: