Please, Please, Whatever You Do.
Please, please, whatever you do, On piles of leaves do not poo. For if you do a leaf might jump, And tap you lightly on your rump. And if a leaf should tap your rump, Being distracted, you might jump, Causing these leaves to stir, Attaching themselves to your fur. Causing in you quite a fright, These things chasing you from out of sight, You may make a horrible scene, Trying to shake yourself clean. So please, please whatever you do, On a pile of leaves you must not poo.