MOUSTACHE THEIF

Good grief, good grief,
The Moustache Thief,
Is causing a sensation,
You'll see many a hairless lip,
On your next trip,
To the policing station!

He plucks and he plunders,
Every 'tache in town,
So there's no hair there,
When their owners down!

Horseshoes and handlebars,
Pencils and the walrus,
Are disappearing everywhere,
From Birmingham to Belarus!

But the Moustache Thief,
Is a lot nearer,
Than all the police supposes,
And if they looked closer,
They'd find him,
Underneath their noses!