I miss my pants

I miss my pants.
They appear to be somewhat lost.
I’m pretty sure they were on my legs
But now they’ve fallen off.

Wasn’t I wearing jeans?
They’re my favourite type of trouser,
But maybe they smelt like sausages,
And then were eaten by a schnauzer.

And what about my shirt?
Now that’s gone missing too.
This is rather worrying,
For from me, my clothes adieu.

Why must I end up naked
Every time that I go out,
It would seem to me, there is a conspiracy
For me to go without.

Well maybe I’m nude, but that’s ok,
At least I can stand up tall,
Because luckily, I have my dignity
At the end of this pub crawl.

Gavin