The old, grey owl in daytime
Sits there very, very still.
He doesn't wink his eyes at me
Or open up his bill.
He puffs out all his feathers
Till he looks quite round and fat.
His eyes have slits of yellow
That remind me of a cat.
But when the dusk comes falling
Then the owl will glare at you.
Oh! Listen to him calling!
"Hoo-whoo! Hoo-whoo! Hoo-whoo!"