Gibbon gibberish

The monkey sat up in the tree, so sad
His mummy had had a big row with his dad
His mum threw a coconut at daddy’s head
And daddy fell out of the tree, and he’s dead

The monkey grew older, and went for a job
He landed some work with a lion called Rob
Who asked him to help him install a new hob
But he messed it all up, by being a slob

So the monkey got tired of being a slave
And he went out alone and he hid in a cave
He discovered a girl monkey there, who was brave
And said ‘I know my lovely, let’s throw a free rave!’

So they gathered together the little they had
And they called up their mates, who thought they were mad
They borrowed some speakers from Tim the giraffe
And they called the hyenas, who loved a good laugh

The gig would be held on the Pong-Pong Plateau
They had U.V., and dancers and a sexy Snake-show
The fire-juggling Rhino said he’d be there by 3
And the DJs were sorted, even though it was free

For promotions, the girl monkey drew up some flyers
She was careful to make sure that no-one lit fires
They planned to have Hip-Hop, and Techno and Funk
And Reggae and Jungle, with MC ‘Da Skunk’

The day of the party, the monkey was ill
But the girl monkey said ‘Take it easy, boy- Chill!
I got you some weed, and I got you a pill.’
And he still had some acid, from a Hippo named Phil

Dressed up in their finest; her dreads all tied back
In combats and steel, with his tunes on his back
He was playing the headliner- 4 until 6
And the boy was an infamous Kid-in-the-Mix

The jungle was there in full force; they were rocking
A giraffe in a crop-top so low it was shocking
A lion got off with a leopard on E
They swapped numbers, but I doubt they’ll stay friendly. We’ll see.

The music was pumping all night, and the monkey
Just couldn’t stop dancing! It was all way too funky!
At 2 in the morning, space-tripping, new highs
He got off with the girl monkey; lost in her eyes

They slinked off in the bushes, and cuddled and kissed
While the techno was pumping.. both of them blissed
Then the lion came up and said ‘Monkey, my man!
If anyone can, then the Monkey-Man can!’

It was seconds to four, and the E was on strong
The Jungle Skunk wound up his last breakbeat song
The backbeat was echoing over the Ridge
And the Monkey stepped up. He was cool as a fridge.

His time. His moment. His reason to live.
He had plenty of music, and so much to give.
He opened his set to a silent dancefloor
And he prayed he they were ready, and creaming for more..

The crackle of vinyl. A silence. A pop
There’s a drum-loop for 8, then the bass kick will drop..
He laid over a sample from Reservoir Dogs
The hyenas got up from their Chill-Out logs

BOOM went the bass drum. RRRRIP went the snares
The crowd lost their footing- they were caught unawares
By a WOOF from the cones as the B-line flew in
Then the shit started rocking! Let the Party Begin!

He let rip for 2 hours with an onslaught of tunes
From the Funk, to the Disco, the Punk to the Spoons
He had elephants jumping to Didgeridoo
They were joined by a couple of lost kangaroo!

No-one stopped. No-one tired. There was Techno and Thrash
Congos, Bongos, Merengue and Samba.. The Clash
The were grins, ear to ear, on the beasts all around
And they all agreed, secretly, Monkey’s the Sound.

From her spot on the podium, she smiled inside
He’s the monkey for me. I’ll take him for a ride
Took a swig from her water, passed her spliff to a snake
Then the Monkey girl got down and started to shake

She was twirling. Gliding. Rising and riding
Lushed up from inside where the love had been hiding
Her body just flowed with electric desire
The fire burned higher. She was live like a wire

On the Chill-Out logs later, she got a massage
From a panther whose aura was ever so large
He made her feel good.. and then Monkey arrived
And so he got one too; they were all on The Vibe

Nothing was bad. Nothing went wrong
When the wind down was over, it didn’t take long
To clean up and pack down, put the stuff in the van
Smoke a joint and return to the cave, hand in hand

They chilled out with some new mates, and a couple of spars
Downed a bottle of wine, and a couple of jars
Smoked a shitload more pot, watched a viddy or 2
And by 12, just the monkeys alone, warm as goo

The curtains were drawn and their bodies were close
Those tingling sensations; the touch of a ghost
Wrapped together so tight, they made love for 5 hours
And the mission was done. One with God. Clean as flowers.