Great muckle cantankerous brute,
suddenly ye cam fleein oot
wi a yon hunters in pursuit,
and chased ye oan my brand-new caur.
Yere badly hurt, Ah hae nae doobt,
wi mangled pelt a steeped in glaur.
Proud antlered beastie wi sharp racks
tae fend yersel against wolf packs,
or wicked Man when he attacks.
Och Man, dinnae be sae damned hasty
tae stuff his heid wi woo an wax . . .
Its such a shame his meats sae tasty!
Frae swamp or muskeg dinnae stray,
the highways no the place tae play
theres aye danger scurrying frae
the wild, wild widlan at a run;
bit then, puir beast, whit can ye dae
when folks ahent ye wi a gun?
Oh big beastie stey in the sloughs,
its safer browsin through thon ooze,
an peyin coort tae a yer coos.
Dont try tae rut a diesel train,
its calls o love are richt bad news
lurin ye doon the iron lane.
The Great White North has worldly fame,
bit really, its no quite the same,
a thanks tae Mankinds utter shame
wi twa hunder years o pollution.
Bit huntin moose is no fair game,
nor is road-kill a sound solution.
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