One Nicholas "Nickers" Bartholomew Miles
Is a fellow who's highly gregarious,
But this charming young chap with a face wreathed in smiles
Has a talent for actions nefarious.

Ev'ry night he will peck his sweet wife on the cheek
And tickle his kids till they're gurgling;
On his back there's a sack of utensils unique,
And he's off for a good night of burgling.

'Neath a smuggler's moon he will steal through the town
In a search for a target particular.
He'll disarm the alarm, he'll climb up and climb down,
Though the high walls are quite perpendicular.

Now Nicholas knows that he'll never be nabbed
By an ordinary copper or bobby,
For the pearls he's purloined and the gold that he's grabbed
Are the fruits of much more than a hobby.

It's a calling, a passion, a mission, an art,
Nothing less than a true avocation;
And our hero has thievery deep in his heart;
It's his only careeer aspiration.

His Dad was a robber, his grandfather too,
Two uncles, three nephews, ten cousins.
In his family tree, twenty pirates all grew,
There were crooks, owls and thieves by the dozens;

While a few of the crew, to add meat to the stew,
Were blessed with much higher ambitions;
A comp'ny director, the chief taxman too,
Plus a p'liceman and five politicians.

But our Nickers surpassed all those crooks we are told
In his acumen and his ability
To sniff out a big stash of diamonds or gold,
And with safe-cracking skills and agility.

So if thievery were an Olympic event,
Erased of the shame and the odium,
It's our pick that young Nick off to London be sent
And is soon standing proud on the podium.