Lawrence Agrippa, a mole, is lured to his death by Poodle Rocking being played on a banjo.

A sinister mole called Lawrence Agrippa

Was rather partial to a pea and spam fritter.

He would munch all alone in his underground hole,

A contemplative greedy soul,

Whose heart was lead.

His greatest dread

Was hungry rumblings or throbbing head,

Until he heard a distant twangling

That set his heart and heckles jangling;

Banjos playing sounds so sweet

They swept him off his little feet

And sent him rocking, poodle-like,

Towards the sounds and poky spikes

And speared him.  Skewered once for all

(he hardly felt a thing at all)

And then poor Lawrence Neil Agrippa

Was made into a pair of slippers.