Every night about half past ten

there's tapping ont window

It's the moth with hob nailed boots

trying to find a weak spot before 

he parascends 

through shattered glass.

Nowt will keep this tiger away from lamp

He's kitted out with mess tin and webbing

he's all camouflage and clobber

obvious to the untrained eye

that he's been on manoeuvres behind enemy line...

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