As he sits there contemplating
Life outside his hutch
Does he wish that he was free
And does it matter much

That he can't run and hop and play
Like other bunnies do
And hunt for food and tasty scraps
On daily pastures new

To have a friend and spend the day
Their spirits roaming free
To build a home and then produce
A bunny family

Or does he love his cosy hutch
Being cared for every day
With food and water all on tap
And beds of straw and hay

When weather really gets so bad
In rain or snow or storm
A cover drops across the hutch
To keep him snug and warm

I hope he likes his cosy life
For freedom doesn't pine
Cause otherwise I'd miss the fun
Of Bugsy being mine.

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