Moses supposes his toses are roses
But Moses supposes erroneously
For nobody's toeses are poses of roses
As Moses supposes his to be
There once was a cat names Moses
Who took time to smell the roses.
He inhabited a chapel
Where he learned how to grapple
No longer the cowardly lion of Ozes
Whose smell this is I think I know
That Little Chapel cat called Mo
He stalks the rooms, he hugs the chair
And sometimes he will foul the air
But we don't care, it's only fair
'cause Mo belongs with those who share.