He's perched upon the campsite gate,
It couldn't be much sillier.
He moves around, we don't know how,
That cable tie's familiar!
He's got a little rusty friend,
Who's round and red and jolly.
I found him perched the other day,
Inside a prickly holly!
These crazy dudes of folded tin,
Are driving us quite barmy.
They only move when Paul's around,
They're Michelmore's Toy Army!
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