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If the cupboard under the stairs could talk
I wonder what it would say
Would it tell me of those who hid in it
When there was rent to pay

What about the poor frightened child
Back in nineteen forty 
Locked inside it for hours at a time
Just for being naughty

It could tell of the granda who sheltered inside
When bombs landed on Spion Kop
Crouched inside, hands over his ears
So that he couldn’t hear the bombs drop

Does the cupboard remember the numerous times
When gran hid boxes of chocolates in there
She would go in and eat them on the sly
Because she was too greedy to share

We used to have a gas man
I think his name was Peter
He came about four times a year
To read our old gas meter

He’d open up the cupboard door
And illuminate the meter with his torch
He laughed when we told him that Grandma
Used a match to light a bulb in the porch

I remember when I was five
Playing hide and seek in the house
I was quietly sat in the cupboard
And came face to face with a mouse

He left a long trail of foil
He'd had Grandma’s chocolate for a meal
I got the blame and not the mouse
Imagine how that made me feel

During the war, it was sometimes the fashion
To use the cupboard under the stairs
For food that was on ration
People appreciated what was theirs

It was used as a pantry for Bacon,
Butter, sugar and powdered egg
Some people had extra coupons
While others had to beg

In nineteen ninety seven,
As I’m sure you are aware
Harry Potter, young wizard, at four Privet Drive
Lived in a cupboard under the stairs

Our cupboard is no longer there
And neither is the house
My grandma has passed away
And the chocolate-loving mouse

If you still have a cupboard
And it’s underneath the stairs
Just sit down and think awhile
What could have happened in there

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