I am a tidy soul; I need a house:
Upon a quarter acre, true,
But still a tiny, little house
To call my own.
A cell won't do, and neither would
A private ditch, or burrow, and
A cuckoo clock is cozy
But a mite too small; so is
A mouse hole in the wall. I need
A house for me: A tiny little house
Upon a quarter acre all surrounded by
A privet hedge that reaches to the sky!