Frog Dance

Good old Aristophanes went and bit the dust.
His date of death has not survived, but now there’s only us.
Aphrodite’s temple is smashed and full of reeds,
Just the place for leaping in a warm spring breeze.

Brekekekex, koax, koax!
Brekekekex, koax, koax!


A prince’s lifestyle these days isn’t what it used to be,
Just hanging round till mummy dies and meeting bores for tea.
Take our word for it, girlies: If a frog hops on your bed,
Let him kiss you, and turn into a frog instead.

Brekekekex, koax, koax!
Brekekekex, koax, koax!


Hoji Matsumoto, late of Osaka town,
Painted an ao-gaeru with an enigmatic frown.
They wondered in Japan back then, and now in London too --
But we know what our friend meant, and we won’t tell you.

Brekekekex, koax, koax!
Brekekekex, koax, koax!


You’ve taken quite an interest since our troubles all began:
“Help save our poor amphibians! Their only hope is man.”
It’s not that we’re not grateful, but we don’t expect the worst:
We won’t die out completely, because you’ll go first.

Brekekekex, koax, koax!
Brekekekex, koax, koax!

Hear a musical setting of this poem by Nick Morieson: