Kiwi
In the land that is way under
The other land they call Down Under
Is a certain flightless hen-sized bird.
They have long beaks, come out at night,
And have no wings to achieve flight
But from them a high shrill at night is heard.
Their feathers are like fur and brown
And on eight toes they walk the ground
In New Zealand's forests lush and green
Where they eat berries and worms,
Larvae and insects that squirm
Late at night and so are seldom seen.
The Kiwi is the name we give
To this little bird that lives
In the land that bears the Long White Cloud
Where it bears such treasured fame
The People there do share it's name
Proclaiming themselves Kiwi's bold and proud!
Kiwi
In the land that is way under
The other land they call Down Under
Is a certain flightless hen-sized bird.
They have long beaks, come out at night,
And have no wings to achieve flight
But from them a high shrill at night is heard.
Their feathers are like fur and brown
And on eight toes they walk the ground
In New Zealand's forests lush and green
Where they eat berries and worms,
Larvae and insects that squirm
Late at night and so are seldom seen.
The Kiwi is the name we give
To this little bird that lives
In the land that bears the Long White Cloud
Where it bears such treasured fame
The People there do share it's name
Proclaiming themselves Kiwi's bold and proud!
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