A po-liceman scratched his head,
Wondered what the fuss was over,
After the report he’d read:
“I’ll go see what’s going down,”
Said Golightly heading round.
He went round to see the old lady,
Rang the door-bell in the night,
Found out all about her worries,
Vowed he’d try to put them right:
Looked around behind the bins,
For an-y-one c’mitting sins.
Even though he did find no-one,
That lady was not best pleased,
Thought he should call up the ’copter,
To shine its lights where no-one sees:
“I’ll check all the streets around,
You can sleep both safe and sound!”
And at last Golightly calmed her,
Set off to allay her fears,
Thought that it was probably someone,
Who’d had way too many beers:
Thought at last it was safe to go,
Then saw some footprints in the snow.
Footprints in the snow... nice.
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