I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody’s house.
There’s no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr., Nobody
‘Tis he who always tears our books,
who leaves our doors ajar;
he pulls the buttons from our shirts,
and scatters pins afar,
that squeaking door will always squeak,
because of this you see:
we leave the oiling to be done
by Mr Nobody.
He puts damp wood upon the fire,
So kettles cannot boil;
His are the feet that bring in mud
And all the carpets soil.
The papers always are mislaid,
Who had them last but he?
There’s no one tosses them about
But Mr. Nobody
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Comments
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This reminds me of the old piece http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/show/119022-Anonymous-British-Everybody--Somebody--Anybody--and-Nobody
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Apparently I'm Mr. Nobody!
What is the line from "The Simpson's" that Homer taught Bart for when he did something wrong, "It was like that when I got here."
I'll have to remember Mr. Nobody, he'll come in handy.
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