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On the side of a mountain, or just down below,
The crew with their cameras were ready to go.
I jiggled and jumped, tossed my hat in the air,
Then walked on the set which was dressed with great care.

I gazed at the lights, the 'lipsoidals and cans,
All fifty and two with their flumens and flans.
I looked at the tripods, the jib and the gaff,
and pushed an odd button and started to laugh.

Each thingy-de-bobble and flickety flack,
Went whirling and twirling and going ker-whack.
The pogs had an eye lens that looked up and down
And each had a zwurlie that went round and round.

I knew that these gizmos with gigas and bytes
Would soon be recording the quilterly sights.
The quilts had been hung up by Justin and Jeff
So now the grand entrance was all that was left.

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