Once upon a time,
There was a little crime,
Nothing too big,
Nothing as major as a stolen pig,
But the one who done it,
Felt as if he has done more than the first hit.

He wants to say he didn't mean to do it,
But he knows that is a lie,
People ask him why.
"Why, why do such a thing?"
But he only cries.

He understands what he has done,
He understands that he shouldn't run,
But how couldn't he?
He knows he will never be able to face *me