Pickles

Walking steady up John Mill Boulevard

Wonder where he goes with his pickle jar

Only now and then does he leave his yard

Only now and then does he get this far

Got his Homburg hat and his walking stick

Mutters thoughtfully through his eyebrows thick

Elbows twitching; with every move a click

Fella's itching, he's got his nervous tics

Nobody knows where he heads out to go

Nobody even knows if he knows where he's going

Hold on, with your pickle jar, where you heading off today?

Nobody knows if he's really alone

If what he does has anything to do with his own mind

Hold on, Mr Pickle Jar, we don't even know your name

Heading left into Bay Tree avenue

Stops to wipe his brow, sips on pickle juice

Wonder what he thinks in his derby shoes

Wonder if he'd like it, to share his views

Some may think he's strange, that he's on the loose

Some say he's deranged, I beg to refuse

Some may think he's strange, some say he's confused

Some things he won't change, keeps him in his youth

Nobody knows where he heads out to go

Nobody even knows if he knows where he's going

Hold on, with your pickle jar, where you heading off today?

Nobody knows if he's really alone

If what he does has anything to do with his own mind

Hold on, Mr Pickle Jar, we don't even know your name

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