If you hear a loud 'whoosh'
In the African bush
And an animal comes to the fore
Who is basically pig
But more hairy and big
You will know you have met with a Boar
You are glued to the spot;
Will he k** you or not?
No need to have fears about that
Now he's made you stand fast
And you're cornered at last
All he wants is a nice little chat
But don't be misled;
Soon you'll wish you were dead
That instead he was after your gore
For Oh, Oh what a bore he is, what a thundering thumping bore!
In monotonous grunts he will tell you of hunts
Where for days he'd eluded the field
He will tell you his sow should be farrowing now
And enlarge on her annual yield
He will say with an air, that for brushing the hair
His bristle's the elegant thing
And proudly confide they are after his hide
For no less a man than a King
Then a joke he will try as you stifle a sigh
And deny that you've heard it before
Thinking Oh, Oh what a bore he is, what a thundering thumping bore!
As you laugh at his jokes (Ha ha ha ha ha ha)
'I'm a popular bloke', he will think
When you're ready to burst
Then 'Hello there!' he'll cry
To each poor pa**er-by
The ones that have not seen him first
For on sight of the beast they will run to the east
And the north and the west and the south
And long for the day when his head's on a tray
With an lemon to stop up his mouth
They south as they run;
'He's an excellent son
An a wonderful fellow, We're sure!'
But Oh, Oh what a bore he is, what a thundering thumping
Down-in-the-dump-ing
(Grunt grunt grunt grunt)
Thumping bore!