Jill blossom, a grey haired possum…
She carried eight joeys upon her back.
ONE AND TWO
THREE, FOUR, FIVE
SIX…SEVEN AND EIGHT
One fell off to cling beside her.
Leaving the others held on top.
Those eight they clasped her tight.
ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR
FIVE AND SIX AND SEVEN,
stayed that way.
Even for the rest of the day!
I say, what a great view they have!
When Jack Possum came along he
sang them, all, a song,
SING ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN AND EIGHT, he said.
SING ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN AND EIGHT!
They had, all, joined in too!
But Jill Possum, she never said a word.
She just listened to the rhythm
that she heard.