Please fear the moor my friend
Where the Twiddle Boor Bum dwells
Don’t go in to moor my pal
For fear you fall down a well.

Flee in squeamish fear
From the Tuck-Cluck bird
And stand and take a drink
Make sure you’re not horse herd

My pal went in to the moor
To seek out the Twiddle Boor Bum
He got a splinter in his finger
And sat while nursing his thumb

Lo and Behold the Twiddle Boor Bum!
Crashing through the trees
My pal whipped out his sword
While shaking at the knees

My pal chopped off a foot
Of the creature’s many legs
My pal ran home with it
And hung the foot on a peg

The Twiddle Boor Bum was angry
He limped toward my pal’s shed
And grabbed my pal and growled
“Take my tail instead!”