I’ll tell you a story about a goat

that lived alone on the moor

He was dirty and scruffy and smelled a lot

He was hairy and scary and had big horns

And walked with a limp, not a trot.

He lived on his own ‘cos the other goats

Just didn’t want to know.

“Go away,” they said, “we wish you were dead”

They turned their back, took a different track

And trotted away in the snow.

Goat limped away for forty two days,

To a moor where different goats roam

And to his surprise, they had his eyes,

His limping gait, this was his fate

To live in this land, he’d call home.

They welcomed Goat with open hooves

And said, “Hello, what’s your name?”

So it came to pass, Goat shared their grass,

They were hairy and scary and had big horns

And all smelled exactly the same.

Nana