What Picasso's hand created back then
Belongs on our bare wall
Let's listen, say, do
Yes, I have a plan
We need brains, a ladder, twine
A bottle of beer, three sheets of paper
We have courage, ideas in our hats
Stealing art is in the blood
Nobody knows what will happen tonight
Nobody knows and saw something there
Out of the dust, what a masterful act
Art theft, art theft, no one here knows what to do
There's a number on every castle
Stupid guards can do us times
Grinning, the crowd hoists up
The fat loot in the candlelight
What's locked behind iron doors
Is enjoyed without an entry fee
We rummage through gold and precious stones
Through Free spirit in delicate rhymes