Wee sleekit, loupin' scuttlin' moosie
Fit are ye deein' in my hoosie?
Rinnin' up and doon the flair,
Ahint the table, 'neath the stair.
Foo did ye get in come tae that?
Or were ye ta'en in by the cat?
There's ae thing sure though. There's nae doobt,
Ma wee moose pal, ye're gaun back oot!
So jist ye bide and dinnae move
Until I get the box and glove
(For I've been bitten ance afore
Tryin' tae get mice oot the door.)
I chased ye roon and roon the place
Til I am purple in the face
An' sweering like a Glesga scaffie
Because ye ran intae ma baffies!
But noo I hae ye in the box
And ta'en ye ootside (in ma socks!)
I'll say “fare weel, wee sleekit moose
And bide awa' fae oor big puss!”
