When I see yer running sound
To the
forests of the ground
Then I
pity man or mole
Who happen treadeth on your black hole
That
badger trap
That
black pit pole
Which
reaches back for rat or vole
And closes
snap on nose or tail
Oh
what a shame to be slow as a snail
Oh
fail once they call you mouse
Fail
twice its as bad as louse
But
snap that trap
As
fast as a cat
The
tail which tails the vole or rat
Will
bite at that
And
never redeem, though he may bite through
But be
he mouse or be he shrew
You
get his house
He
won’t love you
He’ll
douse and dance
And
pounce and prance
As if
the wood were burning down
And
chance a slip, a skip away from palm
He’ll
dash away from harm
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