| Four legs have I, a sturdy fellow A fuzzy back that isn’t yellow But (often) green or (rarely) red A den is where I make my bed My keepers feed me coloured balls With sticks they store on my den walls Sometimes I store them in my pouch Sometimes deep in my belly; ouch! That’s when you’ll see me acting strange Instead of balls, I’ll eat your change And that’s my cue to feed again Chalk it up to hunger, friend! |
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