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“Stand well back,” said PC Potter.
“Don’t strike a match,” said PC Patch.
“No smoking, gents,” said PC Trestle,
“Or that will be the end of poor old Cecil.”

Now PC Potter and PC Patch,
PC Trestle and Mr Hatch,
The man from the electricity
And the crash waggon too
Stood in a circle
and discussed what to do.

“We can’t move Cecil with petrol about.”
And to make himself heard Cecil had to shout.
“Ring for the fire engine – they’ll be here in a jiff.
The sooner the better ’cos I’m getting stiff.”

The fire engine arrived with lights flashing white,
With blue, red and yellow, oh what a sight.
“Stand back you people,” said Fireman Payne,
“I’m gonna wash this petrol down the drain.”
Sawdust and sand finished off the job,
And again Cecil was lost in the middle of the mob.

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