A lonely little hermit crab,
Who lived on water or on land,
She liked to pinch a lot and grab,
It walked on gravel and on sand.

Tunneling all over underground,
Digging its way through,
The shell on its back is somewhat round,
Eating the food old and new.

In its way are rocks and sticks,
As the misty air blew,
Food over fight is what it pickes,
Watching the ocean, and its pretty shade of blue.

Along comes another shell,
Washed up by the tide,
It changes shells very well,
Going down its tunnel long and wide.