‘Twas five in the morning, and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, except for Petros.

When all of a sudden, from out of the blue,

Crash! Bang! (Tinkle. Tinkle.) Who could it be? Who?

A drug-addled woman, a girl really, lay

On the front doorstep — what was she trying to say?

“Just let me come inside to pick up my stuff,

A backpack I left here, it’s harmless enough.”

We told her she’d never been inside before,

We picked up the glass where it lay on the floor.

Police and an ambulance (blood on her face),

Explanation? You kidding? Of course, not a trace.

The glazier is coming to patch up the door,

We’ve picked up the pieces and we’ve vacuumed the floor.

We’re glad that it didn’t turn into a fight

And we hope that the next time she’ll get the address right.