Little Believers

Near a misty stream in Ireland
In the hollow of a tree
Live mystical, magical leprechauns
who are clever as can be
With their pointed ears, and turned up toes
And little coats of green
The leprechauns busily make their shoes
And try hard not to be seen.
Only those who really believe
Have seen these little elves
And if we are all believers
We can surely see for ourselves.
(Irish Blessing)

  



But the cats don't want a pot of gold.

They want to eat them.