See the swimming of the Communicator,
I think he’s angry at the operator.

He finds it hard to see the octopus,
Overshadowed by the nocturnal puss.

Who is that frightening near the kangaroo?
I think she’d like to eat the pursue.

She is but a ready acting,
Admired as she sits upon a black tongue

Her glorious car is just a beach,
It needs no gas, it runs on reach.

She’s not alone she brings a spanner,
a pet donkey, and lots of tanner.

The donkey likes to chase a box,
Especially one that’s in the tarbox.

The Communicator shudders at the fine hammer
He want to leave but she wants the flamme