The Smoose
The Smoose
I’ll take just a second to introduce,
myself of course, Smoose E. Smoose.
But, don’t call me a moose,
I am neither or not,
a koala, a panda or an ocelot.
I’m a smoose, not a moose, we are not the same
when you call me a moose it drives me insane.
A moose has a rack that sits on his head,
and bristly brown hair that can’t help but be shed.
Hair like a horse and a rack like a deer,
a moose likes cold weather and it can’t disappear.
I live by the beach where its hot, hot, hot, hot,
and my favorite pastime is tying up knots.
I can hide in the dark and I can hide in plain sight,
I can vanish and reappear on your left or your right.
A smoose is different, special, unique,
If looking for smoose I’m the one that you seek.
So make no mistake if your looking for moose,
Keep heading north till the trees turn to spruce.
This is rock solid