Don't ask.

Well, I was feeling Birthday Partyish and I wanted to write something silly that I could dance in that Funky Nick Cavey Way (TM) to. Hence:

African bed crisis
They lay upon the ground
And in little huts
And the straw on the roof
Gets all blown around

All the clouds in the sky
They float on by
Not a care in the world
But they don't have to sleep on the floor
When there's an African bed crisis

When there's an African bed crisis
We all sleep on the floor


Don't look at me like that.