Rip knife—someone sliced while I’s sleepin',
Walkin’ through the house, softly creepin’
Screen door considerably weakened.

Well, they stole piano
And somehow they got it through the screen door.
Don’t know how they did it. . .
Through that sliced-up slot made in the screen door.
No problem. . .they went in,
But how’d they get it out through the ripped screen door?

Not one trace that someone had been there
Except, nothing now is left in there;
There is not even any gin there.

Can’t be highball reapin’
’cause they had out schlepped booze through the screen door.
Now my home is empty—
Naught to laugh about; in fact, I scream more.
All I want to do is kill the crafty lout who sliced the screen door.

With knife, I go slice while they’re sleepin’,
Walking through the house, softly creepin’. . .
Steal more than these folks could be keepin’.