It's windy and raining The sky's getting darker The draft from the doorway is freezing; We look out the window And see the gazebo And realise he's up and he's leaving!
The guy ropes unravel As another gust swoops in And lifts him right up in the air; He's bulging and flapping And quickly unwrapping Petrifying the garden chairs!
He finally breaks free And heads for the fence Destroying the herbaceous border; But in tumbles and bounds He's right out of sight Flying down the street and round the corner.
We tried to cling onto The ropes hanging off, But, alas, he was moving too fast. We've not seen him since, but heard the reports: Torquay's where he was seen last.