The Rubbits Got Ma Parsley

The Rubbits Got Ma Parsley

Birnie, Linda

The rubbits got ma parsley,
I'm in an afa state,
I didna dell and plunt an hyow, for 'em ti decimate!
I'd fantisised o soups an stews, a delicately seasoned,
Thanks to thae lang lugged furry vandals- I've a bit lost ma reason!

First aff wis the fennel, sine they left it a alone,
Jist fin I'd relaxed ma guard, I fun the oregano gone!
Eence a carefree novice gardener - bit noo ma broo is furriet,
Far eence my basil flourished - you can see far the vratches burriet!

Sine the rubbits got ma parsley - that was the final stray,
I canna tak it ony langer -rubbits hiv hid their day,
Ma freen cam ti advise ma "Something his ti be done,"
"Ye need something ti protect them.... ken onybody wi a gun?"

Ma battle plan began ti figure,
It involved a shotgun a man on the trigger,
So run little rubbitie, run, run, run,
I'm onto yer case - ye've hid your fun, fun, fun!
Eence mair I've got the upper han,
Noo that I've reclaimed ma lan,
Ye dinna think I've mibby acted ower harshly??
Noo this rabbit stew ken fit it needs? a touch mair parsley!