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Little Miss Take would steal anything
She’d steal from a pauper, she’d steal from a King
Don’t show her a bell if it goes ding a ling
For when you’re not looking she’ll half inch its ring

Little Miss Take does not like to pay
She knows what she likes and she’ll whisk it away
She’d steal the moon as it slept in the day
She’s barred from the grotto, she nicked Santa’s sleigh

Little Miss Take if she needs to be fed
Will nab eggs and bacon and butter and bread
And getting it cooked won’t befuddle her head
She’ll just nick the camping stove out of your shed

‘Little Miss Take is my name,’ she once said
But she wasn’t named as a thief, but instead
’twas only a quick drunken fumble in bed
And her mum and her dad hadn’t planned to get wed


[If Adam Hargreaves would like to get his hands on
this material (or to sue me) I can be contacted through
Soup Mail... or any half way decent lawyer]

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