At the bottom of the hole there was a vole,
The vole said, "you know voles are magic in Mich,
So, I'll grant just one wish,"
The vole wished he had hot soup in a bowl.
Voles can make magic and I met one that cursed me,
Now, I can't work with numbers because I can't count past three,
It gets better yet,
Don't know the alphabet,
Cursed voles make me ignorant free.
The magic vole liked to play french horn, trumpet and flute,
In fact, he could play anything that made the noise of a toot,
He could beat on a drum,
Sing tenor and hum,
And, when the police showed up he could scoot.