There was an old woman who lived in a shoe
Whose clutter of brats numbered forty and two.
She'd never got money for buying them bread,
Was forced into sleeping them 7 to a bed.
Afraid for her brood and fed up with the strife,
She set out to find them a cosy new life.
O'er mountains and oceans - begged, borrowed and stole -
Now they're all sitting pretty - in Staines - on the dole.
