Skirting boards creak at night
With scratches and nibbles aplenty,
We knock three times and hide in fright
Wondering if mice ever visit the gentry.
Tick, tock goes the clock
At one, three and four,
Tim hopes he has fit a lock
On each and every door.
With baggy eyes we fall asleep
As dawn begins to break,
When a dripping noise starts to creep,
The mouse has left us with a lake!