If I Could Be an Elephant

If I could be an elephant,
then I would have a trunk
(and, goodness knows, I'd need it just
to carry all my junk).
What's that you say? Wrong kind of trunk?
A trunk like mine's a nose?
Well then, okay, I'd have a way
to spray--just like a hose.

If I could be an elephant,
then with my ivories,
I'd play a happy tune all day
on my piano keys.
Oh, that's not right? My pearly white's
instead a pointy tusk?
(Then I can look quite sharp, I guess,
from morning until dusk.)

If I could be an elephant,
I'd make a trumpet sound,
and those who want to hear a band
could gather all around.
Oh no, you say? My trumpet's shrill?
Not musical a bit?
(Well, I will have to rethink all
the songs I play with it.)

Alas! I'm just an elephant
who shrieks with raucous noise.
Say what? You think I might bring fun
to worlds of girls and boys?
You think the circus tent's a place
where I might strut my stuff,
and it won't matter that my skin
is coarse and gray and rough?

Well then, okay, if what you say
is noble, good, and true,
then I can do some tricks and stunts
that might just tickle you.
Come see my trunk and mighty tusks
and hear my trumpet blow,
and I'll be glad to hear you cheer
me on--from the front row!