Bunny creeps out and caresses his nose,
Combs out his ears with his fluttering toes,
Blinks at the sun
And commences to run
With a skip and a hop
And a flippety-flop,
Nibbling the clover wherever he goes;
But only when he is quite easy in mind
Does he button his little white tail down behind.
Bunny stops dead and stiffens each hair,
And his eyelids freeze in a terrified stare,
And he pricks up his ears,
For the sound that he hears
Is a low muffled beat
And a drumming of feet
And an ominous rub-a-dub-dubbing — but where?
He’s off like the wind! He’s off like the wind!
And his little white tail is unbuttoned behind.