I met this parrot called Ollie,
He is really a bit of a dolly,
Sits on his master’s shoulder,
And sometimes likes to get bolder.
He comes from South America,
North of the Amazon River,
If he landed on any part of me,
Then I’d certainly be all of a quiver.
They say he’s sixteen, he’s a black headed Caique,
He really doesn’t look like his age,
They water and feed him and love him so well,
Otherwise he would go into a rage.
Then out in the garden there’re more of his mates,
In aviaries tall, big and proud,
And as you walk by at the side of the house,
You hear them squawking so loud.
I think Ollie is special to his master,
He loves him as only he can,
And rejoices each day when he watches him play,
Seems Ollie is part of life’s plan.
They’ve had parrots for years without any fears,
The neighbours, they never complain,
The garden’s a zoo with red, black and blues,
It will never drive you insane.
They’re two lovely people who love all their birds,
And wouldn’t hurt a feather on their heads,
They’d both break their hearts if they ever found,
A bird lying on the floor dead.