Jazz Song I

Over the hill, and over the dale
Katchm-ko wandered high.
Loving the light of the Pompass tree
Nothing compares to sky.

Katchm-ko wilted, wandered and sat
huggin' the friss-frass band
while the trumpet was heatin' up the tranquil night,
he couldn't help but move his hand

...to the jungle beat, thick and sweet
his feet kept tapping along
as drums went boom, but not for doom,
but rather quick like a ball of ping-pong.