Cerian Cantwr
Chorus:
For Skippy is the night guard on the bridge of gargoyles grey.
Helps travelers in need, his inner light does show the way.
A friend to all the children - chitters with each boy and girl.
Our hero, known as Skippy, the glowing orange squirrel.
Verses:
There are many tales of bravery, of heroes bold and true.
I'm afraid this isn't one of them, but it will have to do.
A tale of injured innocence, to make your neck hairs curl -
The kidnapping of Skippy, the glowing orange squirrel.
Now Skippy he did guard a bridge upon the Runestone Hill,
And when drunk souls would stagger by, he'd chase them with a will.
They'd yelp with fright then stumble on to zigzag left and right,
And swear they'd seen the devil as an orange squirrel that night.
A Spaniard, and a Chinaman, and an Aztec heard his fame
-
And they decided there and then a squirrel's ransom to claim.
The Spaniard crept up softly, led by the orange light;
Then stuffed the squirrel beneath his cloak and vanished in the night.
Skippy's friends awoke all unaware upon that fateful morn.
To find their bridge unguarded, their faithful friend had gorn.
In his place they found a ransom note left by a mean old mobster
That threatened dire consequence and was signed 'Evil Lobster'.
While filled with fear and worry for their missing furry
friend,
They searched the land from high to low, likewise from end to end.
They passed around a broadsheet where his likeness had been drawn,
And hired the dread detective that was known as the dark prawn.
A shrine was soon erected, where their patron squirrel had been,
That begged for Skippy's safe return. Soon offerings did pour in
Of acorns, nuts, and bric-a-brac. For with telling of the tale,
All children upon hearing it began to weep and wail.
The selfish shellfish heard all this, and gleefully clacked
his claws,
Gave orders to his motley crew to pursue without pause.
The Spaniard laughed. The Chinaman twirled his mustaches instead.
The Aztec sighed, and rolled his eyes, then sadly shook his head.
The search for Skippy still went on, continued unallayed.
None had heard hide nor hair of him. His friends were sore afraid
A grisly fate had taken him, perhaps turned to squirrel stew.
Despondent and despairing, they did wonder what to do.
The next day dawned both clear and fair, with wonder
and surprise.
At ease there, in his favorite chair, did Skippy meet their eyes.
They marveled at his great escape. Had his life been at risk?
But Skippy smirked and chittered how much he liked lobster bisque.
Now Skippy's back where he belongs, at guard upon the hill.
All children cheer, their friend is here, that empty spot he'll fill.
A glowing dot of comfort in the middle of the night.
But if you're drunk, hell startle you - you'll run away in fright.
