From Alaska to Zanzibar the poets are out br They’re searching and hunting and looking about br The hunt is on, the call is being shouted out loud br The poets well versed are searching all round br In cupboards and sheds and holes in the ground br They’ll keep searching until that ferret is found. br br They scramble about like mouse hunting cats br Reciting some prose in case ferrets like that br They’ve heard many stories of ferrets abound br And even up legs of trousers are found br Those furry mammals with teeth oh so bright br That when they are bared they give quite a fright. br br The poets are hunting high up and low down br And when they have found him they’ll call you around br And while they are waiting they’ll play for a while br With the ferret you’ve lost since the end of last year br And gave herald to a ferretless and lonely new dawn br Since the day TM celebrated that Christ was past born.