The Xeroxed Burglar

(Tune: The Boston Burglar)

I was born and raised in Wiltshire,
A county I love well,
Brought up by honest parents,
The truth to you I'll tell,
I was raised by honest parents,
And brought up tenderly
Until I turned to burgling
At the age of twenty three!!

I burgled stores and condos,
And manses, halls and homes!
I swiped the stew from kitchen stoves,
And made their mommas moan!
I picked up gems from bedrooms,
As a burglar, I was hot!
Until this winter brought me down
With a bad case of the trots.

As I softly stole into a house,
And softly climbed the stairs,
A cruel virus seized my gut
And took me unawares!
Although I stole the owners' clothes,
His jewelry, too, by Jeeze,
I had to leave there in the dark,
My stinking BVDs!

I went back to my day job sir,
By gastric tonics healed,
I was just in time to join the fun
At the Xmas party deal.
We were drinking jolly Xmas grog
And minds began to rot,
We started xeroxing our bums,
And passing 'round the shots.

Now, I've never been a party poop,
I'm in there with the best!
And so I rode that Xerox screen,
And got "copied" with the rest.
And when the grog had worn me down,
I staggered home at three,
And I never dreamed that party game
My downfall soon would be.

For just after I had left the bash,
They were busted by the fuzz !
Who took and swept up all the trash,
Evidence, they said it was.
And some bright dick had had the thought,
By chance, he did allow,
That one among those Xerox prints
Seemed familiar, somehow!!

My character was taken,
The shot was my downfall,
One of the busted office girls
Had recognized a ball,
And when I woke up next morning,
Three coppers hollered "Freeze!"
They had tracked me down from the traces brown,
In those goddamned BVDs!!

So you who have your liberty,
Pray keep it bright and clean,
And do not leave your buttmarks on
The copying machine,
For if you do, you know you will
Find yourself like me,
A-serving out your thirty years
in the penitentiary.