To the broad sunlit uplands

There once was a lunatic cat
Who deranged itself under a mat,
It stuffed up its face
With some haddock and plaice
And now it's frenetically fat.

There once was a sozzled old wino
Who drowned himself under the lino,
Then he climbed up a tree
And ignited with glee –
So where is he now? Buggered if I know.

There once was a smelly old emu –
Said its keeper, "I really must clean you",
But the emu went bonkers
And stoned him with conkers
A stupid tale? All right, be seeing you...

This is the gibber book. Grey is its colour (well, sort of). Grey is its nature – until it moves up to the broad sunlit uplands, of course.