| Early Sunday morning
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| When my parents were asleep
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| I snuck out of my bedroom
|
| To the kitchen I did creep
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| I went into the cupboard
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| And I got some peanut butter
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| I was oh, so careful
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| Not to wake my mother
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| With the sticky icky peanut butter
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| Stuck to me like fudge
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| I tried to shake my brother
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| But Tommy wouldn’t budge
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| When I whispered in his ear
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| He was still asleep
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| So I crawled upon his tummy
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| And I tickled both his feet
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| First I heard him grumble
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| And he chased me down the stairs
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| And grabbed me by the ear lobe
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| And tried to pull my hair
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| He hit him in the tummy
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| And he tried to grab my face
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| And round and round the house
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| We both began to chase
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| I went and got some ice cream
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| And poured it in his hair
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| Then he threw an apple at me
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| So I hit him with a pear
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| The eggs were hurled across the room
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| I hid behind the chairs
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| And Tommy ran right after me
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| When I ran up the stairs
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| We were hanging on the curtains
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| When our parents saw us there
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| With chocolate on our underwear
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| And ice cream in our hair
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| There was chocolate on the couch
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| And eggs upon the chairs
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| Tomatoes on the door
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| There was ketchup on the stairs
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| Milk spilt on the floor
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| Curtains ripped and torn
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| Peanut butter on the rug
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| And our pajamas torn
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| Our Daddy was so angry
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| Mom yelled at both of us
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| She said we had to clean up
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| There was nothing to discuss
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| So now on Sunday mornings
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| When my parents are asleep
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| Sometimes I still get hungry
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| And I want something to eat
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| Early Sunday mornings
|
| When my parents are asleep
|
| I sneak out of my bedroom
|
| To the kitchen I still creep
|
| I go into the cupboard
|
| And I get some peanut butter
|
| But I’m oh, so careful
|
| Not to wake my mother |