There Are Mice Living in the Attic

There are mice living in the attic.
I don't know where, I do not care.
All I know is that they are eating my underwear.

My mother tells me I am crazy,
She says that I'm a liar.
"Mice are much too lazy.
"They live under the house and no higher."

She won't even think of it, she wouldn't even dare.
Every time I tell her she turns her head.
So I thought I would give her a scare.
I trapped a mouse and hid it in her bed.

That night there came a screaming
Like a wicked witch that had been dreaming
Of candy canes and trampolines,
Of sweetly stuff and softly things.

My mother tore through the house
Like a rhino stampeding loud.
On top of her head there sat a mouse,
Like the sun, beaming proud.

"Call the militia! Call the police!"
She screamed so frantic.
"Burn down the house. Run down the street!
"There are mice living in the attic!"