16 July 2012
In an old crooked house, Down an old crooked lane, There was a little old witch, That baked cookies in vain,
She rolled out the dough, Wearing her old crooked hat, Sitting in the kitchen, Stroking her crooked fat cat,
While they warmed in the oven, And the smell filled the house, She hung out some washing, While chatting to a mouse,
Fresh clean sheets, Hung out to dry, But the lack of company, Made the witch cry,
A pile of new cookies, All crooked on the plate, But no-one to share with, Not a single crooked mate,
Lonely old witch, Couldn't sit for long, She whispered a little spell, Made into a crooked song,
Thankfully heard by A crooked little gnome, He came out to help, Bring all her grandkids home,
So they sat at the crooked table, All said the cookies were nice, But should we spare some, For the crooked little mice.
Crooked Cookies • Opuss № I