Way up there, there sits Epi,
Way up in that old oak tree.

“Alas!” says he,
Up in that tree.
“I must find bugs for the tummy of me!”

So off sets he,
Little Epi,
To find some bugs for his tiny tummy.

He glides through the air,
Fully aware,
Keeping an eye out for bugs to ensnare.

Right over there!
A flash and a glare,
A colourful insect for him to ensnare.

The sun isn’t showing,
The wind’s lightly blowing,
This doesn’t keep Epi from joyfully glowing.

A marvellous, miraculous, magical meal!
For Epi, this bug has enormous appeal.

Smiling with glee,
There sits Epi.
Way up in that old oak tree.

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