Far From The Trouble And Toil Of Town, Where The Reed Beds Sweep And Shiver, Look At A Fragment Of Velvet Brown, Old Man Platypus Drifting Down, Drifting Along The River. And He Plays And Dives In The River Bends In A Style That Is Most Elusive; With Few Relations And Fewer Friends, For Old Man Platypus Descends From A Family Most Exclusive. He Shares His Burrow Beneath The Bank With His Wife And His Son And Daughter At The Roots Of The Reeds And The Grasses Rank; And The Bubbles Show Where Our Hero Sank To Its Entrance Under Water. Safe In Their Burrow Below The Falls They Live In A World Of Wonder, Where No One Visits And No One Calls, They Sleep Like Little Brown Billiard Balls With Their Beaks Tucked Neatly Under. And He Talks In A Deep Unfriendly Growl As He Goes On His Journey Lonely; For He's No Relation To Fish Nor Fowl, Nor To Bird Nor Beast, Nor To Horned Owl; In Fact, He's The One And Only!