Zebra Crossing

I'm at the border between Botswana and Namibia
Looking for a bride for my pet Zebra
You see, my Zebra, he wants to get hitched
But his parents, they're old-fashioned and strict.

They insist on the best bred bride for their son
One who earns her stripes, doesn't just have fun.
She has to be from one of the old tribes
She has to give wonderfully good vibes.

My zebra, he doesn't like to travel
So this dilemma I must unravel
I must interview zebra Moms and Dads
Is their daughter up with the latest fads?

Then my zebra will like her, his parents will frown
A hooves-up from one means the other hooves-down
So I am at the zebra crossing
And my mind is turning and tossing.

This one's pretty, this ones smart
This one bakes good apple tart.
This one's comments are black and white
This one needs to always be right.

Heck, I'm single because I couldn't decide
I couldn't pick myself a bride!
Now I'm picking one for my pet
And anything, to you I'll bet

That when they see my choice
Everyone, with one voice,
Will bray (what is it zebras do?)
"HEY, what's wrong with you?"

And they'll point out all the faults
And the to-be-bride will revolt.
Then she'll go back home to mother
And I'll have to begin again and find another!

Wait, here she is, the perfect doll
I think I'll get on a skype call
Oh, they like her, she's family now!
My feelings? Relieved, and how!