Crooked Man
There was a crooked man
Who lived in a crooked shoe
He had seven million children
And a bad case of the flu
His crooked little children
Were dressed stylish and greasy
They sang crooked little songs
And left us all uneasy
His friends Jack and Peter
Left him crooked work each day
While they made the world much neater
With their crooked little play
And his crooked little canine
Smiled a crooked toothy smile
And his crooked little feline
Thought she was a crocodile
So we ring a ring of roses
And buy pickled pepper jars
And then shove them up our noses
In the back seats of our cars
And the crooked world keeps turning
Spinning merrily on and on
And our pitiful fire's burning
Who will miss him when he's gone
For the answers are not easy
And the truth is not that hard
But the doing makes me queasy
For my mind is filled with lard
And the crooked man is smiling
With his crooked teeth and lips
At my crooked empty cupboard
And my fat and bony hips
But the sun is shining straight
Down upon the ground beneath
And I will not look upon them
I won't see his crooked teeth.
copyright (c) 2012 christopher w neal all rights reserved