A puir wee kirk moose aa forlorn
Its furry coat fair sairly worn
Sank doon upon its bony knees
and prayed - for just a wee bit
The tears ran doon its wee thin
But nane could hear the saddest
That drifted oan the cauld nicht
Till whiles it couldnae pray nae
Syne daylight cam, the kirk bells
The doors swung open wi a bang
Communion day had come oan by
Wi wine and plates o breid held
The wee moose lay as still as
And watched it aa wi bated braith
Then thocht - if I keep awfu quate
A bit micht jist fa aff a plate.
And so it gazed as roond they went
Then jist as tho twas heaven sent
Whit landed richt upon its heid
Bit twa lumps o communion breid.
The staff o life lay oan the flair
Then, bounteous answer to his
Jist as he thocht, 'It looks fell
Ae body couped some wine forbye.
Wee moosie stoated up the aisle
Wearin sic a boozy smile
The folk stopped singin, fair
Tae see a drunken moose walk past.
The organist fell aff his chair,
The meenister could only stare
Tae see this drunken, sinfu moose
Cavertin in his sacred hoose.
At last it staggered up the nave
Then turned and gied a happy wave
'I ken noo when its time to pray
I'll do it oan communion day'.