The life of woodland creatures is a mystery to me,
What do they eat, where do they live, what do they have for tea?
But I don’t mind that I don’t know what lives in muddy holes,
I’ve no reason to be tempted by the lifestyle of a toad,
Or a badger, mole or water rat, or a weasel, stoat or vole,
‘Cos I’m guessing that it’s dark and dank,
And miserable and cold.