The Boobook's Call

When the pale full moon is stealing through the calm and starry sky
It is an eerie sort of feeling for to hear the boobook's cry
Mopoke mopoke he cries out unmelodious though clear
At times he seems quite distant and at times he seems quite near
A brown spotted owl that roosts in thick tree foliage out of the sunlight
The boobook's is a familiar voice of the Australian night
So often I have heard them as I lay in bed awake
Mopoke mopoke they cry out in a voice none could mistake
Birds that hide away in tall trees from the light of day
On mice, small birds and insects it is said they do prey
They fly out of their roosting trees in the evening at nightfall
And they cannot be mistaken in their distinctive call
Mopoke mopoke he cries out in the Australian night
On the tall gum and acacia trees in the calm of the moonlight.