Pitter Patter, Pitter Patter

Pitter Patter, pitter patter, pitter patter; I heard the sound of tiny feet I turned around only to see the biggest spider you ever want to meet If things couldn't be worse than to meet a spider that was that grand With three pairs of gaited shoes and a black walking stick in his hand I really don't want to trouble you Sir, but I seem to have lost my way I have a good friend General Beatle, he's asked me to come and stay He sent me a letter with his address; but I seem to have gone astray On seeing the letter, I pointed South, then sent the spider on his way Never in my life have I seen such a spider that stood over six feet tall Who is off to visit General Beatle; down yonder, at the Fox Manor Hall I found a bench where I sat awhile, whilst digesting this very thought Then ran to the nearest public house, where a large whiskey I sought When again did I not hear the sound of pitter patter of some tiny feet With arms wide open; General Beatle and that spider did on me greet Now, all of you may think, that this story is rather more than strange But, when you are just an ant, I am far from thought of, as deranged Indiana Shaw . . . ; )