Gimme dat critique.

Run past the cat with the grin growing wider and wider
And past the white queen growing nicer and nicer
Past the rabbit growing whiter and whiter
And past the hare with the teeth growing larger and larger
Under the beast growing stranger and stranger
Head heavenwards so you're not any later
Run past the queen or your neck shall shatter
And past the twins growing fatter and fatter
The thicker the batter the better the platter
Hold the cup with your personal tatter
Don't lose the paper that conceals the patter
Be prepared to quiet the chatter
Clap your hands, clip clop clatter
And when it comes to the latter
You simply mumble the matter
But it's okay - you're just mad as a hatter.