Packbawky Serenade

This is a work in progress. The intended final result was to be a song, sung by a packbawky, accompanied by big band of packbawky squawkies. Picture the Glen Miller Orchestra where each of the instruments is replaced by a packbawky of suitable pitch, envelope and timbre. Dream up a crooningly smooth tenor soloist, then lock him in the dressing room and replace him with an articulate packbawky. Dim the house lights. Grab a handful of popcorn. The show opens with the (deliberately anachronistic) Packbawky Serenade*.

My mind still lingers on those bustling city days --
the fading sunshine filtered through the smoggy haze,
when doves were wooing, cooing soft songs of love
and feathers floated from their raunchy nests above...

We walked - as the sparrows squabbled for your cold McFries;
We talked - though the seagulls drowned the traffic with their cries;
We laughed - when the pigeon-strafing found your lemonade;
We found each other in the packbawky serenade.

I still recall the night we stayed out on the beach --
our thoughts of sleeping murdered by the night owl's screech,
then parrots snacking, cracking seeds from dawn 'til dark,
and as we kissed I'm sure that raven muttered "fark!".

We walked - on the sandy shore and stopped at times to snog;
We talked - as the magpies scared the crap out of your dog;
We laughed - at the penguins waddling in their dusk parade;
We found each other in the packbawky serenade.

[Instrumental solo]

We walked - 'til the city crows announced the break of dawn;
We talked - while the early birds found breakfast in the lawn;
We laughed - by the river where the ducklings splashed and played;
We'd found each other in the packbawky serenade.

* Lyrics only. Recording not included.