In the midnight sky there’s a thirsty moon
And it drinks up the darkness and lights up the room
In the little old farmhouse of Farmer McNeish
Where he and his Missus lie resting in sleep.
But how do they sleep? Well God only knows
For he snorts and he snores and she whistles and blows.
Over in the barn, the cows heave and sigh
As they low in the straw and heavily lie.
Up in the rafters the chickens align,
As they nod off to sleep, all set in a line.
And down in the hay kittens nestle with mother,
So deeply they burrow, you think they might smother.
Out in the doghouse there’s old faithful Rover,
Who growls in his sleep and gently rolls over;
Dreaming of groundhogs and other pests,
He chases them down in his dreams to their nests.
Still up in the farmhouse in noisy repose
McNeish lies a-snoring, mouth open, nose closed,
And beside him the Missus who whistles and blows
And beside him the Missus who whistles and blows.