Come into my closet, ignore all the mess
There’s something worth seeing behind that red dress
Under those mittens and next to that shoe
Are my traveling pants, and they’d like to meet you.
They’re not much to look at, just plain ugly brown
They’ve got grass stains, the zipper’s perpetually down
You’re right when you say that they look quite absurd
But they tell the best stories that you’ve ever heard.
Like the one about terrible bank-robber Hamish
My pants were right there on the night he got famous
Old Hamish was brave, but he hadn’t a gun
So he held up the bank with his finger and thumb.
Once my pants saw a flood down in Mississippi
When the water rose higher than all of the trees
And in Texas they sat on a branch for a break
But they jumped up real fast when it hissed like a snake.
They’ve seen lizards grow new legs and fish that can fly
They’ve even seen frogs raining down from the sky
So if tales both exciting and true make you dance
Then come spend some time with my traveling pants.
(Inspired by Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. Head on over and check it out for more fun.)