Behold the cutpurse as he stalks
A plump and wealthy lady
He does not walk in sunlight
But in alleys dark and shady
He follows slender purse strings
That hang gently on her shoulder
And inches slowly towards them
Feeling craftier and bolder
The lady stops, she looks around
Intuiting wrongdoing
The cutpurse ducks behind a door
Outside her line of viewing
The lady sighs and shakes her head
“I’m paranoid,” she thinks
The cutpurse grins and follows her
How silently he slinks!
And when the lady stops to watch
A blackbird beat its wings
The cutpurse slides his scissors
Toward the shoulder-hanging strings
Snip, snip! The bag’s released
He slowly slips it off her body
It is a jewel-encrusted purse
Quite glittery and gaudy
The cutpurse hides in shadow
Has his crime gone undetected?
Indeed, the wealthy lady
Seems entirely unaffected
The cutpurse grins and celebrates
What wealth he must have won!
He opens up the purse and finds
Great Scott! A loaded gun!
“Well, well, I’d hoped for money,”
Thinks the cutpurse, “But I guess
This gun will come in handy
Should I ever face distress.”
The muzzle opens up its mouth
And says, “I doubt that, sir.
You see, I am the lady’s gun
And I belong to her.”
On hearing this, the cutpurse pales
And drops the talking gun
“That’s it!” he cries as he runs off
“My cutpurse days are done!”
“Be sure of that!” the gun replies
And shoots him in the heel
The cutpurse falls, and eats a bit
Of pavement for his meal
The lady hears the shot and finds
The cutpurse on the ground
“What fun!” she cries, "What jolly fun!
Look what my gun has found!”
“I’m sorry!” cries the cutpurse
“I apologize sincerely!
Besides, as you can see,
I have been punished quite severely!”
“That’s true,” the lady says
“I guess we don’t need the police.
I’ll simply take your wallet
And in that way, we’ll make peace.”
“Yes, take it!” cries the cutpurse
“And I thank you for your mercy!”
The lady smiles and pats his head
“You are a dear cutpursy.”
She takes the shot man’s wallet then
And helps him to his feet
He limps away and she calls out
“Farewell! It’s been a treat!”
She then goes to a market
So to spend her robber’s money
There’s just enough to buy
Her favorite biscuits, topped with honey.
A plump and wealthy lady
He does not walk in sunlight
But in alleys dark and shady
He follows slender purse strings
That hang gently on her shoulder
And inches slowly towards them
Feeling craftier and bolder
The lady stops, she looks around
Intuiting wrongdoing
The cutpurse ducks behind a door
Outside her line of viewing
The lady sighs and shakes her head
“I’m paranoid,” she thinks
The cutpurse grins and follows her
How silently he slinks!
And when the lady stops to watch
A blackbird beat its wings
The cutpurse slides his scissors
Toward the shoulder-hanging strings
Snip, snip! The bag’s released
He slowly slips it off her body
It is a jewel-encrusted purse
Quite glittery and gaudy
The cutpurse hides in shadow
Has his crime gone undetected?
Indeed, the wealthy lady
Seems entirely unaffected
The cutpurse grins and celebrates
What wealth he must have won!
He opens up the purse and finds
Great Scott! A loaded gun!
“Well, well, I’d hoped for money,”
Thinks the cutpurse, “But I guess
This gun will come in handy
Should I ever face distress.”
The muzzle opens up its mouth
And says, “I doubt that, sir.
You see, I am the lady’s gun
And I belong to her.”
On hearing this, the cutpurse pales
And drops the talking gun
“That’s it!” he cries as he runs off
“My cutpurse days are done!”
“Be sure of that!” the gun replies
And shoots him in the heel
The cutpurse falls, and eats a bit
Of pavement for his meal
The lady hears the shot and finds
The cutpurse on the ground
“What fun!” she cries, "What jolly fun!
Look what my gun has found!”
“I’m sorry!” cries the cutpurse
“I apologize sincerely!
Besides, as you can see,
I have been punished quite severely!”
“That’s true,” the lady says
“I guess we don’t need the police.
I’ll simply take your wallet
And in that way, we’ll make peace.”
“Yes, take it!” cries the cutpurse
“And I thank you for your mercy!”
The lady smiles and pats his head
“You are a dear cutpursy.”
She takes the shot man’s wallet then
And helps him to his feet
He limps away and she calls out
“Farewell! It’s been a treat!”
She then goes to a market
So to spend her robber’s money
There’s just enough to buy
Her favorite biscuits, topped with honey.
