When apples ripen in the yard

And fall down from the tree,

If no one’s looking very hard,

I’ll steal one just for me.

 

But now they’re picked and in the house,

I wonder if I dare,

If I am quiet as a mouse,

You think they’ll let me share?

 

I’ve tasted these and even though 

They’re ripe as they will get,

The taste is sour, I should know,

My cheeks are puckered yet.

 

I know it sounds like sour grapes, 

Because they’re out of reach,

But see my tongue hang, face that gapes, 

I’m very hard to teach.