The real story of Little Bo Peep and her tasty sheep.

Little Bo Peep has eaten her all her sheep

She pretends not to know their whereabouts 

But for how long can she this secret keep

Before the pressure builds and out she spouts 


Kebabs, lamb stew, roasted leg with mint sauce

She loves her sheep but not as first we thought 

Her secret safe, we call Inspector Morse

To investigate and a villain caught 


Her alibi, she says she was asleep 

So turn to those who would have been awake 

To ask of the sheep and where they would keep 

Such stolen goods before a chance to bake 


Into a pie intended for a king

Or maybe for its fleece to make a coat 

A fancy one with red and silver bling

The best, the only coat in which to gloat 


And so the criminal hipster is born

His fancy coat and fancy beard, are weird   

His music unknown, the 60s reborn? 

No hippies here, these are hipsters as feared 


Little Bo Peep might her secret have kept 

Except the smell, of sweet delicious meat 

Caught red handed into her house she crept 

But the inspector grabbed her by her feet 


And arrested her, for wasting his day

When he could have been fighting crime elsewhere 

Catching the baddies and making them pay 

So he left and give a dirty stare 


How dare she eat her sheep then bare face lie

What did she hope to achieve by all this? 

It doesn’t make sense we should just say bye

She’s clearly not right, something oddly a miss 


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