What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
Time was when herds of wild T’bu
Would roam the plains of Krumbuktu
But then the hunter-tourists came
And things were never quite the same.
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
We never had the slightest fear
Though numbers dwindled year by year.
We saw them shrink but never thunk
By just how much their size had shrunk.
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
Our people didn’t care a jot
As more and more T’bu were shot.
We thought that it was for the best
To cull this common little pest.
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
The people laughed, the people mocked,
They said – ‘See how its tail is docked!
And how its features are not fair
For it has very little hair,’
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
‘On each blue foot are seven toes,
Its strangely elongated nose
Is wet in autumn, dry in spring
It’s such an unattractive thing!’
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
‘It lays no eggs, it gives no milk
It bears no wool, it spins no silk.
Its ears are long, its legs are short
Its only use is for our sport.’
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
‘Their meat is tougher than a boot
And yet they’re rather fun to shoot,
For if you wound one in the leg
It blows up like a powder keg.’
What shall we do?
What shall we do?
How can we save the last T’bu?
We didn’t care, we never thoughted,
As more and more of them were slaughted,
How soon such hordes of wild T’bu
Could be reduced to just a few.
The tourists dwindled with their prey
They had no reason now to stay.
It was too late, it was too late!
The last T’bu had got no mate!
What can we do?
What can we do?
How shall we mourn the last T’bu?
And so we placed it in the Zoo,
Where it expired, this lone T’bu.
Far sooner than the experts thinked
The poor T’bu became extinct.