The Moggy

I ear they've gorra vacancy `forra moggy on't owd british rail,
Well.! Ave got wun ere that cun lick em in fits,
Catching mice ivvry day wi art fail,
The cun ev him on loan for ten bob a day,
Al deliver im missen theear in person.
Dunt worry ort diesel is bin browt up on that,
That un brown ale is his passion.
His name is plain moggs, and he hates little dogs,
he's a true performer balancin't rails
Is a sight for sooar eyes when is up to his best,
Evvin't passengers biting the nails.
He dunt need a basket to lull him to sleep,
Just an oily cloth chucked into a siding,
The's orny wun snag, when is love lorn un sick,
He teks off 'un guzz into hiding,
So! Just lerruz know when ya want him browt darn,
So's he cun get to know't engine driver,
Un if ya want him in hurry, al cum straight away,
Burrass charge british rail, extra fiver.....

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