The Moss

Well, legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees,
Well, legend has it that when the rain comes down, all the worms come up to breathe,
Well, legend has it that when the sunbeams come, all the plants they eat them with their leaves,
Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of twenty-three degrees.

But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon,
Or the cow that hopped the planets, while straddling a spoon,
Or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune,
And swapped her songs with swallows, while riding on a broom.

Well we can all learn things both many and a-few,
From that old hunched woman who lived inside a shoe,
Or the girl that sang all day and by night she ate tear soup,
Or, the man who drank too much and got the brewers' droop.

Come listen up all ye fair maids to how the moral goes,
Nobody knew and nobody knows,
How the pobble was robbed of his twice five toes,
Or how the dong came to own a luminous nose,
Or how the jumblies went to sea in a sieve that they rowed,
And came to shore by the chankly bore, where the bong trees grow,
Where the jabberwocky's small green tentacles do flow,
And the quanglewangle plays, in the rain and the snow.